The Art of Love
by xheartoflifex
Summary: Kurt is a fashionable singer who is loved by his friends. Dave is the recently outed football player who once made Kurt's life hell. Apart from being partners for an art project, they couldn't have anything else in common... right? :You've Got Mail AU:
1. Chapter 1

After hopping out of the shower and pulling on the outfit he had laid out for himself last night, Kurt quickly checks the time before jabbing the buttons of the coffee machine and sitting down to his laptop. As second semester starts today, he figures he should at least _attempt_ to get there a little bit ahead of schedule. But with a few minutes to spare before he has to leave, he figures he has enough time to check his email, check any scandalous gossip to hit the presses since yesterday, anything… With a predictable _ding_, his inbox loads his messages.

There's a few from Rachel marked urgent, which he ignores already knowing what they're about. There's another from Finn with the subject line reading **oh btw your boyfriend hates me**, which Kurt also ignores and contemplates trashing it, wondering why Finn feels the need to send him emails instead of having a _real_ conversation with him. The last one is from _allmixedup_, its subject line reading **insomnia blows**, and dated at around 4AM this morning**.** Kurt feels a smile tug at his lips as he clicks on it.

_It's 4am, and I can't sleep. Not to try to sound like that corny country song overplayed on the radios right now, but the only thing I could think to do was try to read that book you recommended to me, because all I really wanted to do was talk to you and that was the next best thing. You know – the one written by the Swedish guy? I have to say, it's actually pretty good; not too dramatic, but with enough ass-kicking to satisfy my taste. And the whole time I was reading it, I kept wondering about the girl in it. How she manages to find someone who is willing to go to the ends of the earth to protect her… by just being __**herself.**__ I'll admit it. I want that; to find someone I care so deeply about that I'd do anything for them. That relationship, even if it's just a friendship… _

_I hope you're sleeping now, so I probably won't get a response, but I can't help but ask. Do you have girlfriend? Boyfriend? Do you ever just feel completely wrong in everything that you're doing?_

At the end, all that is signed is 'allmixedup'. That's all that's ever signed at the end of the message. The two of them had met in an anonymous college-bound chat room for Ohio high school students, and hit it off, but had quickly agreed to not use their actual given names. Kurt had explained how he enjoyed the anonymity of it all.

When _allmixedup_ asks Kurt about having a boyfriend, it sends a small chill down his spine. The insinuation is all Kurt needs, and he finds himself quickly pulling together a reply in return as he hears the coffee machine begin to beep. If this boy wants to know if Kurt has a boyfriend, perhaps he has one as well.

He talks about the book and how it's one of his all-time favorites, and how he feels like he can't tell his friends that. Because seriously, if showy, campy Kurt Hummel was known to enjoy reading things like _The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo_, there'd be even more rumors about him and the things he got off on (hello? Whips and chains fetish, much?) running through the school, and most likely not favorable ones. He tells him how he's always wanted someone like that, but he's never found them, always finding himself cut short. He mentions Blaine, but only for a sentence and not by name, his mind shooting back to the email that Finn had sent him.

Reading it over as he stands up, he almost deletes it, realizing how melancholy he sounds in it. But he decides against it, pushing those feelings of doubt aside, signs it 'extraordinarilyunordinary', and hits send.

* * *

Dave Karofsky is not a morning person.

In fact, he's not even sure he should label himself a person in the morning, because as his alarm starts beeping for the seventh time, he chucks the across the room into the wall. Going to sleep about two hours before it goes off really doesn't help the matter.

As his Blackberry starts to beep much too loudly considering what time it was, he groans, sitting up and cursing everyone and their mother only to see that his email alert is going off. Intrigued, he opens his inbox, only to find a new email from _extraordinarilyunordinary, _sent just a few minutes ago. With a smile, he opens it, suddenly feeling much more awake, even though he knows he needs about five more hours of sleep.

A feeling of warmth floods through his body as his pen pal describes a feeling of sometimes not feeling like he can be himself around his friends. Because if there is anyone who has experience with that, it was Dave. Considering what happened before _and_ after he was pretty much forced out of the closet at school by Jacob Ben Israel's video footage of him giving head to a new substitute teacher after school in an empty classroom on his blog, he was lucky the football team hadn't tried to kill him yet.

As his pen pal continues on about his boyfriend, yet still not thinking that he's found **the one** yet, Dave smiles, feeling a bit more hopeful than before. At least he's not the only one feeling alone; _extraordinary_ clearly wants more out his life too. He wants to send a reply, but considering that classes start in 14 minutes, he figures maybe he should spend his time on getting dressed instead of thinking up witty responses…

* * *

When Karofsky's truck pulls up to the school, he finds Azimio and the others waiting like normally - right by the dumpster as usual. Climbing out of the truck, he sees that for the first time in a long time, they aren't alone. Looking particularly terrified while trying to pull himself away from Azimio is none other than Kurt Hummel. Stopping for a moment, Karofsky considers turning around and walking away like he hadn't seen them. Because after what happened between him and Hummel in the locker room almost a year ago – it hadn't been pretty. But after he had been labeled as 'closet-case' and made a mockery of throughout the entire school, which Hummel probably ended up seeing considering the video had been plastered all over any social networking site… he couldn't go back and change it, so he'd just come to be at peace with it. Being at peace with himself could only lead to a truce with Hummel.

And he wasn't really looking to ruin that, either. Considering that he hadn't seen Hummel in almost a year up until now, this meeting wasn't looking good for that.

"Let's go, man. We ain't got all day! Think of this as a redemption for what you've done!" Azimio yells, shaking Hummel's shoulder a bit, which in turn shook the entire boy's slight build. Quickly, Karofsky met Hummel's eyes, which were a mess of emotion – pleading, anger, fear… anything. Dave knew what Azimio wanted him to do, knew what he was insinuating by redemption. But after what Dave had done to Hummel in the locker room that afternoon and the weeks following – he fucking threatened _to kill him _(he never meant it, but for him to say to a kid who was three times smaller than him that he was going to murder him, of course he was going to freak) – he can't very well throw him in the dumpster now.

But Azimio is… Azimio is his… his friend? Is that even the right word for it? No, because a friend wouldn't have slushied him after Karofsky-gate saying that he must like having stuff dripping on his face. So not friend. His beat-up buddy? Karofsky couldn't remember the last person he beat up. Ever since his viral video appearance on his knees, he couldn't really come off as threatening anymore.

The fact that Karofsky can't even come up with a word to describe the two of them speaks louder than words ever could.

"Erm, I'm a little rusty…" Dave mumbles distractedly, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away. And even though he's not looking straight at Hummel, he can see the curious expression appear on his face.

Azimio laughs, motioning to one of the others. "'Rusty'? We'll show you how it's done, then. You can take your turn later this week, my man!" Before Karofsky can even move or say anything else, Hummel's flying into the dumpster with a yell. Azimio and the others high five, laughing loudly and calling out for him to follow as they head into the school at the sound of the bell.

Dave watches them walk away and enter the school before even thinking of approaching the dumpster. Hummel, who's currently trying to get his bearing and climb out, immediately cowers away from him. "What do you want?"

Instead of saying a thing, Dave simply frowns and offers him a hand.

Kurt stares at it, his eyes fixated on it, as if the moment he decided to reach for it, Karofsky's going to push him back in and shut the lid or something. When nothing happens, Hummel's eyes turn up to look at Karofsky, who insistently pushes his hand out further. "Leave me alone," Hummel whispers, backing up against the wall of the dumpster. The fear that was etched across his face hit hard in a place Karofsky never knew existed. He knew people had been intimidated by him, but terrified? Utterly and completely scared? It wasn't something he wanted to pride himself on, no matter how much him and The Fury had done. Rolling his eyes, he simply grabs under Hummel's underarms and lifts him out of the dumpster with ease.

When Hummel's feet are back on the pavement, the smaller boy still staring at him in a mix of terror and amazement, Karofsky chooses that moment to walk away. Because no matter what he does or what he says to Hummel, nothing will ever take back the person he was before.

* * *

Banging furiously on the vending machine, Kurt swears low under his breath, already realizing how much he misses Dalton Academy. The people with class that weren't half-wits, the pristine uniform he had to give back, the tolerance, Blaine… It sucked being back here at McKinley, he wasn't going to lie about that. But if he attended Dalton for another semester, his dad and Carole would've had to pay out of their pockets, and Dalton was a bit out of their price range. As much as he loved it, he couldn't very well ask them to do that.

"Did that vending machine run over your puppy or something…" a voice says from behind him. He turns around to find Mercedes, her eyebrow raised and a questioning look on her face. Considering that it was a look she wore a lot, it was a look that she wore well. He smiles at her before giving the machine another smack. His energy drink comes flying out with a clatter. Popping the top and taking a sip, he makes a face, because he knows that they're disgusting and just sugar in a can. But after his encounter with the entire defensive line of the football team, the coffee he had this morning isn't enough and he's left feeling drained. Not to mention the fact the Karofsky - Dave Karofsky, Karofsky who threw himself at Kurt and threatened to kill him and did all sorts of weird shit like that - was suddenly acting chivalrous. It was too much for just one cup of coffee to bear.

Mercedes is talking about an argument she had last week in glee club with Rachel when the latter decided to insult her talent. Kurt's only been back for about two hours, and yet Mercedes has managed to catch him up on everything he's missed. He smiles back at her, suddenly realizing how much he fucking missed her.

With a wave and a reminder about rehearsal later, Mercedes heads into the girls' locker room. Wandering aimlessly in the last few minutes before class, Kurt pulls out his phone, seeing that he has a new text from Blaine.

It's strange – or at least he thinks it should be strange – how Blaine didn't seem too upset that Kurt was transferring back to McKinley. Not that he wanted sobbing or screaming or tantrums, but just some sort of emotion would've been nice. When Kurt had told him… Blaine had seemed almost – indifferent. He said that he was going to visit McKinley a lot, and that Kurt could still come and spend some time at Dalton… but nothing emotional…

"**miss you and your beautiful voice. wish you were here with me now. xoxoxo**"

Kurt smiles, shaking his head. He can get past the fact that Blaine wasn't bawling when he left, because it's clear through this text that Blaine does miss him. Even from the beginning of it all, when Kurt wasn't even at Dalton, he knew Blaine had cared.

Pocketing his phone, Kurt walks into his next class – art history. It's not a class he's really thrilled about, seeing that he really would've rather taken music history. Of course, he didn't really have a choice as a _transfer_, so he was put into this for his visual arts requirement. Approaching the front table, he grabs a syllabus and looks down at the seating chart. Browsing it, he sees tables of two, arranged by last name. Okay, not that bad. He sees Chang and Cohen-Chang, along with Evans and Fabrey, both sitting together in the front of the room, which makes him feel a bit better. He's already trying to think of possible people that he could be stuck with when he sees it.

_Table #6. Hummel, Kurt. Karofsky, David. _

Well… that feeling didn't last long.

* * *

Dave's been on edge ever since the situation in front the dumpster, jumping at the sound of a locker slamming or door closing. Every time, he's afraid that it's Azimio coming to check up on him or it's Kurt coming to give him those terrified eyes again. At this point, he's not sure which one is worse.

Never mind that, he does know what's worse. Having to sit with Hummel at an awkwardly small, trapezoid shaped table in Art History from the rest of the semester. That's equally comparable to ritualistic death or something. Because not only is Art History the one class he was forced to take before graduating, or because he hates any form of history, or because it's given by one of the strangest teachers in the school… but because every single day he would spend it next to Hummel.

When Hummel finally walks in, he doesn't see Dave, but goes straight for the seating chart. Eventually, he finds out and looks up to see Dave, who pretends to busy himself with a pencil – because clearly that is the most believable thing he can figure out at this moment. Taking slowly deliberate steps, Hummel makes his way back to the table, hugging his syllabus to his chest like some sort of security blanket. When he finally gets there, pulls his chair as far away from Dave as possible, and sits on the edge of it.

"For the love of god. I'm not going to try to fucking jump you or anything…" Dave mutters under his breath.

As if something exploded within Hummel, he whirls around on his chair, his face sharp with anger. "Excuse me?" he hisses, crossing his arms angrily. If it wasn't so dramatically clichéd, Dave might've thought that it was slightly endearing.

In a burst of movement, their teacher rushes into the room, rattling off some excuse about clogged toilets and dead birds and… yeah, Dave was right about her from the start. Her name is written on the board in almost illegible writing due to it immense loopiness. Leaning back in his chair, he thinks that if the teacher is this much of a crackpot, maybe the class won't be _that_ bad. But before he even has a chance to relax, she starts talking again. "The majority of your time in this class will be spent on a final project. You will work in partners on a theme of my choosing. No switching partners, no changing topics, nothing. This will count for half of your final grade in the class."

Looking around the room, Dave realizes that there is not one person in here he would be willing to spend that much fucking time with.

"Cohen-Chang and Chang. Contemporary Asian influence on American Art." Karofsky jumps slightly, as he figures out they're being paired up already. "Evans and Fabre. The rise of athleticism in art in the 20th century." From the way it's going, Karofsky already has a sinking feeling in his stomach about what is about to happen next.

"Hummel and Karofsky." Dave sense Hummel go rigid next to him, and he can't help but tell himself that he's not really excited either. "The use of homosexuality in photography." As the soft chorus of snickers lights up the room, Dave hears Kurt swear loudly under his breath, which isn't that kind of against the whole point of it being under your breath? Slowly, Dave turns to Hummel, whose expression mirrored the exact way he was currently feeling.

This was going to be one fucking long semester.

* * *

The strange thing is that, Kurt can't figure out what's upsetting him more: the fact he has to spend all semester inside school AND outside school with Dave Karofsky, or the fact that his art history teacher just shamelessly typecast the two of them. Because he already knows that working with Karofsky is going to be horrible; he knew that just seeing him was going to be horrible. Karofsky was a kid who got his kicks out of making Kurt's life a disaster.

Jocks – even ex-closeted ones - and the stereotypical fag weren't supposed to mesh. It was just laws of the universe.

And no matter how much that his mind tries to tell himself that _maybe_ Karofsky changed while he was over at Dalton, _maybe_ all those things that happened before were just some horrible way of Karofsky taking out his misguided feelings…

Maybe he's not such a bad guy after all.

Kurt feels the laugh behind his lips at that thought. Before the episode in the locker room, Karofsky was the one always tossing him into dumpster and throwing slushies at him. There had been no change of heart, because there was no heart inside him. Dave Karofsky was and always would be a bully in Kurt's mind. But when he goes to his locker and finds a yellow post-it on it, with **d. karofsky. 455.987.3209**. scribbled on it, he pauses. Here, while he was thinking and mentally preparing himself that he was going to be doing all the work for the project…

Putting the note into his pocket, that same recurring thought pops up in his head. He shoves it back down like he shoves the note into his pocket.

He meets Blaine later that afternoon at the coffee shop right outside of the Academy, giving him a quick kiss and a squeeze of the hand. "So how's everything? Everyone?" he asks, a smile lighting up his face.

Blaine's eyes light up immediately in the way they hadn't when Kurt had walked in, gushing about the Warblers and new ideas for Nationals, and everything Kurt missed about Dalton. It makes Kurt smile for a moment, because this is honestly what he loves about Blaine – the way he gets so excited about the smallest things, but slowly the smile fades, just leaving him with a small, aching pit in the center of his chest. To think of all the conversations that Kurt is going to miss out on, all the chances to be there with Blaine, all the adventures and laughs they had shared.

All the guys that could stake him out now…

Kurt glances at his cell phone, seeing that Blaine has been talking for the past hour and half. His latte's cold now, and he can't even remember how Blaine managed to get on the topic of Regionals 2008. Finally Blaine asked how his day back at McKinley was.

Startled a bit, coming out of a daze, Kurt blinks. "I. Uh." His mind immediately jumps to Karofsky, which he forces himself to forget. "It was like always," he mutters wistfully, faking a smile.

As the two of them walk out side, Blaine throws an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close and kissing his cheek. "I told you it would all work out." Kurt nods slightly, wishing he could agree with him.

* * *

Dave's surfing the web in between while doing trig problems, procrastinating even longer than necessary, hoping that by staying on a new email from _extraordinary _will pop up in his inbox. Staring at the screen, willing a new message to show is when his cell phone lights up displaying _Number Unknown_ on the screen.

"Hello?"

At first, there's nothing but silence. He considers hanging up, but as he's about to press the 'end' button, the person on the other end clears his throat. "Uh, Karofsky?"

He should've known. It's Hummel, sounding terrified as ever.

"Oh, hey," he responds as casually as humanly possible, which is actually harder than he imagined. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs, already beginning to understand how much this project is going to suck. His whole body hurts from conditioning this afternoon, and at this point, all he wants to do is curl up under his blankets and sleep. When Hummel doesn't say anything in response, he rolls onto his back and tries to make conversation. "So…"

"Since you made the effort to seek me out, you're not allowed to slack on this project…" Hummel snaps abruptly, and for a minute, Dave's a bit put off. "I don't have the time to put in hours upon hours of boring research on a subject I couldn't care less about. No thank you…"

"Okay, fine. I never said that was going to happen." He hears Hummel grumble on the other end. Which is when it hits him that he's actually carrying on a real conversation with Hummel. Like civilized people. He thought of that as progress. "When do we want to start all this boring research you're referring to?" Even thought they have an entire semester, Dave kind of wants to get this done as soon as possible. The less awkwardness he has to enjoy with Hummel, the better.

As Hummel rattles off how many Glee club rehearsals he has every single day, Dave yawns. This project is going to kick his ass, and if it doesn't, he can think of a few of his friends who will for all the time he's going to be spending with Kurt. "Tomorrow night at the library good for you?" he eventually interrupts. Hummel makes a small noise in response, sounding a bit like annoyance and boredom. Another thing in common – with the way this conversation was going, the two of them would be best friends in no time.

Fuck, Dave really hoped that wasn't the case.

"Sure, sounds great," Hummel says, sounding like it's anything but. "Don't back out on this project, Karofsky," he warns again, but this time his voice isn't nearly as angry as it had sounded before; this time it just sounds tired. Dave's never been a really perceptive person, but all he can picture right now is Hummel leaning up against a wall, phone cradled between his shoulder and ear and running a hand through his hair frustratedly.

Groaning, Dave props himself up on his elbows. "Fuck, Hummel, what do I have to do to show you that I'm-"

"'Not that bad of a guy?'" Kurt laughs bitterly. A beat of silence passes between them. "It's too late for that," he says softly, and Dave can't think of a response to say before all he can hear is the dial tone.

* * *

**Hi! Thanks to everyone who (may) have participated in the poll on my account. I was planning on using one of those stories for my first multi-chapter fic, but I completely forget about this one, which I had the first chapter sitting on my hard drive...**

**Anyways, feedback is love. More feedback leads to me being happier, which makes me want to write more... :D :D :D**


	2. Chapter 2

Surprisingly, Karofsky is already at the library when Kurt gets there. When he sees the football player, who's currently lounging in one of the library's overstuffed armchairs, flipping through a **Sports Illustrated** and obliviously listening to his iPod, he has the strange desire to make a comment to him. And not a snotty one or a bitchy one. Like an actual conversation starter.

Oh dear _God_, what's come over him?

Because maybe it's the fact that he's seeing Dave Karofsky in an intellectual environment, or maybe it's just the lighting, or maybe he's finally gone completely insane… but he feels _off_. His skin feels like it's tingling; like it's too tight for his own body, like he can actually feel his heart beating in his chest. Before he opens his mouth to say anything to the other boy, he stops himself; making conversation with Dave Karofsky isn't a good idea. People don't make conversation with their sexual assaulters or people who have threatened to kill them… He's not sure if that's really a good thing that he was even considering having a real conversation with him, but at this point, he realizes he's been standing like a moron at the end of a row of bookshelves for about two full minutes without moving or saying anything.

Slowly and carefully, he moves to the chair that's facing Karofsky, easing his bag off of his shoulder and onto the floor, trying really hard to not make eye contact with the other boy. All this time, he can only picture that if he does, Karofsky will look up and tackle him, or maul him, or try to shove his hand down Kurt's pants, even though Kurt's voice of reason is telling him that none of those options are really viable. It's just a form of self-preservation. He's only been back at school for two whole days, and yet the universe seems to have decided that he can't get a break. The one person in the world that he needed to get away from is the one person he's seen the most. And no matter how much time has gone by or no matter how much he's heard about Dave Karofsky going through 'magical life changing experiences', he just _can't forget_.

"Are you actually going to say anything, or just wait and see if I magically disappear?" Karofsky mutters flatly, not looking up from his magazine. Kurt jumps in his seat at the sudden noise, snapping to look at the other boy, who was currently folding up his magazine with a roll of his eyes. After throwing it senselessly onto the table that sat beside him, he leaned forward to the point where their knees were just inches apart. Instinctively, reacting to the near-touch, Kurt backed away and almost immediately regretted it. Even he knew that was kind of uncalled for, be it Dave Karofsky or not.

Karofsky groaned, swearing and rubbing a hand over his face. "Jesus Christ, I'm not going to fucking murder you, Hummel."

With a soft scoff, Kurt turned back to face him, arching one of his eyebrows in disbelief. "Past actions tend to repeat themselves. Therefore, I'm not too inclined to believe you…" Muttering under his breath about 'fuck the past' and 'fuck history', Karofsky leans over to the side of the armchair, clearly ignoring Kurt, and pulls out a stack of what looks like art books. It leaves Kurt speechless for a moment. Because – because if they are art books, then that would mean Karofsky had actually started to do research. And 'Karofsky' plus 'smart' doesn't equate in Kurt's head. "What…"

"Books, Hummel. These are a few of the books we can start with for the project, I don't know… I figured we could get a basic outline for the topic today, and then maybe go into some more depth on our own…" he replies, shrugging in what seems like almost a _shy_ way. He hands a few books to Kurt, who slowly takes them, this time his eyes not leaving the other boy, because he truly cannot believe what's unfolding in front of him. Placing the books on his lap, he wonders when this… _this_ happened. Dave Karofsky is not smart. He is not quiet. He is not introspective, or nice, or attractive, or anything positive. He is notnotnot.

Eventually, Kurt puts that past him and begins to flips through some of the pages of the books, taking notes intermittently. The fact that the two of them are working so… _competently_ together leaves Kurt wondering. Is it something that should make him happy?

Or should it completely terrify him? Dave Karofsky made his life unbearable to the point where he became a person he never wanted to be – a coward. He ran away to Dalton Academy because of Karofsky. And granted, he might've met Blaine and had wonderful experiences because of what happened at Dalton, but he had never thought of himself as someone to run from a problem. Then again, he never thought of himself as someone who would have compassion for Dave Karofsky. When he had heard about Karofsky's appearance on Jacob Ben Israel's blog, and then saw it for himself, he'd wanted to feel rejoice. That Karofsky was deserving of all this humiliation and embarrassment and complete degradation of character.

But he hadn't felt that way at all.

Because if there was anyone who understood how hard it was to be honest about who you are, it was Kurt. And at least Kurt had friends and family who supported him. Karofsky… he had no one. And he didn't even have a chance to have any control over his coming out. Through all the torment and torture and horrible things Karofsky had put him through, the only things that Kurt could see fueling it was self-hatred and misunderstanding.

"All these pictures of naked guys riling you up yet, Hummel?" Karofsky laughs, pulling him out of his thoughts. If it were from any other person, be it one of his heterosexual friends, or some other gay guy he happened to know – he would've been completely fine with it. For some reason, with the way Karofsky says it, it stings. And he realizes it shouldn't, because he can throw it right back at him now.

Which is exactly what he intends to do. Without looking up from his book, he says softly "Maybe we should talk to Bouvier and ask if we could incorporate multimedia into our project. I hear there's a great clip all over the internet with this formerly closeted jock giving a blow job to a teacher in his own school during school hours. Although, that would add to the stereotype that all gays are complete morons, because who is that fucking thick-headed…" There's a beat of silence, and when Kurt finally looks up, Karofsky isn't smiling; in fact, he's chewing on the corner of his mouth, looking at anywhere but Kurt. Wondering if this is the beginning of the unraveling of the calm Karofsky he's been seeing this whole time, Kurt decides to press his luck. "So what happened afterwards?" he asks quietly, the tone of his voice changing completely from ridicule to kindness.

"Nothing. Fuck off."

"That must've been a whole lot of nothing going on, because you're a totally different person from when I left…" Kurt laughs.

"I said fuck off." Karofsky's running a hand through his hair, and the fact that he isn't cracking a smile or cracking under pressure drops the smile from Kurt's face. With a sigh, Karofsky placed his pen onto his notebook. Dropping all of the supplies that were in his lap, he frowned. It was strange seeing him like this; most times that Karofsky was talking to Kurt, he was either wearing an expression of anger or intimidation or fury or some other falsely portrayed negative emotion. This, though, this different – it actually looked genuine. "Fuck, Hummel. If this project is going to work out, we're going to have to work together and actually be in the same room without killing one another. I know you're still pretty pissed at me, and I understand-"

"_Pretty pissed_? Is that what you're calling it?" Kurt yells suddenly, completely overcome by emotion, only to be shushed by Karofsky. His hands fly up in the air in aggravation, waving about animatedly. "You – you tormented me for months, threw me in dumpsters, threatened to beat me up, called me faggot and homo – and it was only because of who I was, because hell knows I never did anything to you. Then, come to find out… you're just like me! Only, I find this reveling information out when you're throwing yourself at me in the dark locker room; here I am expecting a punch, but what I get is a face full of Karofsky! So yeah, I think 'pretty pissed' may be the understatement of the year…" With a slam of the cover of the book he had been holding, Kurt jumps to his feet, his hands shaking as he grabs the handle of his bags and throws it onto his shoulder. He hears Karofsky talking to him, but the only response that he can give him at this point is to throw the book in his hand at the other boy's head.

* * *

When Dave finally stumbles home, feeling more drained – both emotionally and physically – all he wants to do is climb into bed and pull the covers over his head until the world no longer hates him. In reality, he eats a silent dinner with his parents, mindlessly drags himself through his homework, and eventually comes up with the schedule for hockey practice tomorrow. It's almost midnight when he finishes, and the night at the library he had spent with Kurt Hummel feels like light years away.

It's becoming more and more evident that Kurt Hummel isn't likely to forgive him anytime soon for what happened between them. Through the past two days and the even longer night that the just spent at the library, the exchange of venomous looks, barbed comments, and hurt expressions are making Dave feel that maybe this is all a lost cause. A little over a year ago, he could've cared less about that loser who was At some point - Dave couldn't figure out exactly when it was - but one day, he stopped seeing Hummel as 'loser' or 'fag', and started seeing him as 'Kurt'.

Before shutting his light off, he opens his laptop, checking his email because it's been a few days since his last contact with _extraordinary_. He's not expecting a message, but it's a pleasant surprise when one lights up his inbox. Any negative feelings leave his body as he starts to read.

_I really fucking hate high school, you know? You spend your entire academic career with these people, thinking you might actually know who they are, but in reality, they're all fucking crazy. No one actually gives a shit about how you feel or what you do – not the teachers, the administration, the people – no one. If you don't look out for yourself, no one will. _

_From the overuse of those oh-so-delicate fucking fucks, I bet you can see that I'm angry. I'm sorry for ranting and making you listen to this all when you clearly have nothing to do with this all. I really wish I could explain everything. There's just one guy who I always see – EVERY. FUCKING. DAY. – and I just wanted to strangle him today. I'm in such a horrible mood that not even my boyfriend could cheer me up. I went straight to see him and threw him down onto his couch, making out with him for a good half-hour. That type of action – kind of out of character for me, and I feel horrible for treating him like that. I just can't get this guy out of my head. _

_I'm just so fucking irritated. I'm sorry for laying this all on you, I hope you're having a better day than I am (although that's not really too difficult). Hopefully we can get back to our daily emails ;)_

_xoxo  
E_

As soon as Dave sees the part that says 'xoxo', his heart drops and he hits reply immediately.

* * *

2:12. 2:13. 2:13. 2:13…

Every time Kurt opens up an eye to look over at his alarm clock, it's like time is moving slower than usual. But every time he tries to actually close his eyes and get some sleep, he can't. He's wide awake, his mind buzzing with unheard amounts of energy. He can already taste the triple shot espresso that he's going to need to get himself through class. Not to mention how horrible his wardrobe for tomorrow is going to be – without adequate sleep, his tendencies to wear last season's clothes are higher, patterns will clash, and don't even start with mixing up outfits from last week.

Mixing up…

Shooting straight up in bed so fast that he almost knocks over the lamp he's trying to turn on beside his bed, he greedily grabs his laptop, prying it open to check for an email that he's hoping will be there. After his horrible day spent with Karofsky, there's nothing that could cheer him up like a new message from his unseen admirer.

_Your language (and the fact you call it colorful) makes me smile so hard. I can only imagine how you'd react around some of my friends and the way they talk. But in all honesty, my day was pretty bad too. Not as full of as many expletives as yours was, nor was there a need to randomly kiss anyone passionately, but it definitely could've been better. And of course, it all had to do with that hellhole we've both come to refer to as high school_

_To all those people who are trying to push you around and walk all over you – my advice is to use your vibrant vocabulary on those motherfuckers and rip them all a new one in a way they won't understand until they're eligible for senior citizen discounts. The vibe I get from you, Extraordinary, is you don't take shit from anyone. You don't care what people think of you, and you couldn't care less if people don't like you. It's something I wish I could be more like. I really admire that. _

_In my case, it's a bit harder then I ever thought it'd be. Because it's harder walk the walk when your family is as distant as mine. Or this boy is as pretty as he is. I feel really fucking pathetic right now. Like my life should be documented on some high-school documentary for what not to do in your personal life. I'm almost positive that I'm still crazy about this guy who wouldn't even care if I didn't exist. And truthfully, I can't blame him._

_Sounds like we're both in deep shit right now. At least we can commiserate together. I really hope things get better for you – for __**us**__. It's nice to hear from you again, though. I missed talking to someone who I can actually relate to. Sounds a bit dorky, but it's the truth :)_

_thanks for listening&helping&caring  
mixedup_

As he reads the response and a smile comes across his face, it's a different smile than ever before. Because this time, as he does smile, he feels warm and tingly and just _happy_. It's something he hasn't felt in such a long time. Before he can even realize it, his cheeks are cramping from the smile on his face and he's hugging his laptop.

This isn't happening. This doesn't happen to Kurt Hummel. Strange fantasy men over the internet don't take interest in boys like Kurt. It just didn't happen. And even though he knows if his Dad found out about this, he'd flip, Finn thinks by proceeding slowly is okay. Granted, Finn isn't exactly the voice of reason when it comes to… to… okay, _anything_. But Kurt trusts Finn more than most people, and if Finn thinks that it's a good idea, than Kurt can believe that.

_Mixedup-_

_It's nice to know that I'm not the only one who's the butt of the world's jokes. That being said, I'm sorry your day sucked too. It's just nice to have an ally in the whole thing of 'my whole life is an epic joke and failure' misfortune. I'm not really sure how you do it, but whenever I get one of your emails, it's the highlight of my day. You never cease to put a smile on my face._

_I'm glad you think of me that way. It really means a lot to me. I feel that I can truly trust you; that I can talk to you about anything and that you understand it. _

_I know this might be a little unorthodox, but I think I want to meet you. In person._

_Let me know what you think,  
Extraordinary_

As he reads over the email, the muscles in his fingers are cramping from him desperately using all of the willpower in his body to not delete the last sentence. His right pinky hovers above the backspace button, but before he can hit it, he closes his eyes and slams down on the send key.

He just asked this guy he's never met, only been speaking to for about two months, and has no idea who he is to meet him. He lets about a faint squeak of despair.

Kurt Hummel doesn't do things like this.

Trying to get his mind off of what just happened, he moves onto the email he's been trying to ignore for so long – Finn email entitled so cleverly **oh btw your boyfriend hates me**. With a roll of his eyes, Kurt clicked on it and opened it, already beginning to wonder on what treasures could lay within.

_-k_

_alright, so i know we've already gone over this and u already hate me for saying this, but u really need to listen to me on this. i know what im talking about. seriously, dude. blaine hates my guts. u need to break up w/ him (and not just bcuz of that, but other stuff too)_

**reasons to end a relationship** _(alright, so rachel helped me out w/ some of this, but the important ones came from me. i take all cred)_

_1. long-distance relationships never work.  
2. he hates me and the fact u used to have a crush on me.  
3. u don't love him anymore.  
4. (from rachel) u dress better than him and are a better singer – unhealthy relationship.  
5. he's our competition, and we don't need him using u to get to us.  
6. he hates me.  
7. burt would kill u if he learned all the stuff u two did together.  
8. u don't really love him either.  
9. u two would be a lot happier if u just dumped him.  
10. he hates me._

_-f_

Well. That certainly did get the email he had just sent off his mind. Groaning loudly, Kurt starts to send an new email. To his brother. Who lives in the room next to him. Who he sat with before on the couch watching _The Hangover. _Where they could've had this apparently Finn's become to modernized to have a face-to-face conversation.

So Kurt will have to email him instead. Evidently, Finn's a genius.

_Finn._

_Apart from your sound reasoning found within that brilliant list (most of which happened to revolve around you, by the way. I forgot, are you the one who's dating Blaine, or is it me? From the sounds of your complaining, it definitely sounds like you though you were…), I'm sorry to say that I've found a few flaws within it._

_First, Blaine doesn't hate you. He loves me and I love him. Grow up._

_And secondly, learn how to write like a competent person. Your frequent overuse of chat-speak gives me a headache._

_Kurt._

_(PS. Since when are you unable to, oh, I don't know, TALK TO ME LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN BEING AND NOT RELY ON EMAIL?)_

As he sends the email, he can't help but feel a little uneasy. The sentence he'd just written about Blaine to Finn – it felt more like a convincing than a statement. And that can't be a good thing. Shaking himself out of it, he tells himself that he's just spooked by Finn's email. He's never doubted Blaine's and his relationship before, and there's no reason for him to start now.

Before he shuts his laptop, he reluctantly checks his inbox again, wondering if by any chance _mixedup_ has replied. Kurt laughs at the thought, wondering why he'd be up at 3AM, and as he closes the computer and shuts off his light, he smiles to himself.

Kurt Hummel may not do things like this, but ExtraordinarilyUnordinary does…

* * *

**INBOX: unread messages – 0**

Of course there's no new email yet. He'd emailed _allmixedup_ almost three days ago, and still hadn't received any form of response from him. But then again, maybe Kurt had scared him. Kurt was the one who had wanted for everything to stay anonymous. And then he's the one who implicates the first personal meeting? Talk about sending mixed signals.

"Is Blaine on his way?"

Kurt snapped his attention forward, looking up at Rachel who was poking at her salad, followed by Finn elbowing her in the side indelicately. They were supposed to be on a double date – Finn and Rachel with Blaine and Kurt – at Breadstix. It would've been nice, Rachel and Blaine talking about dreams of starring on Broadway, Kurt watching Blaine adoringly, and Finn not knowing what the hell anyone was talking about but pretending to so Rachel wouldn't pinch him. Just like always…

Except for the text he'd just gotten: '**sorry babe. cant make it to dinner. you know how it is. love you xoxoxo'**

Yeah, Kurt knew exactly how it was. Unfortunately, Finn did too as Kurt explained to them that Blaine couldn't make it. Rachel just smiled and commented that it was too bad before excusing herself to the bathroom, while Finn proceeded to kick Kurt under the table.

"I told you he hates me!"

"Oh god," Kurt said, rolling his eyes for dramatic effect. "Not this again. Could we please not?"

Finn was currently chewing on the end of a breadstick, watching him carefully as he held up a hand. "Dude. He hates me. Like legitimately. And you don't even love him. You just think you do because he was a rebound crush after that whole Karofsky mess. Rebounds don't last, trust me…" Rachel made her way back to the table, at which Kurt cleared his throat, smiling knowingly at Finn, who immediately paled. "That's not the same thing, and you know it…" Before he can even bring his focus down from the angry red flush spreading across his face to his salad in front of him, his phone is buzzing. He jumps a bit, grabbing it a bit too enthusiastically, hoping maybe it was an email.

It's not. It's a text from his technologically starved stepbrother. '**u know im right. dont deny it. ur just too afraid to be alone to admit that u dont really love blaine. and rach's not a rebound. say anything & i shave ur head while ur sleeping.'**

As he looks up to glare at Finn, he notices that the happy couple is currently sharing a plate of food and making goo-goo heart eyes at each other over it. Kurt gags, resisting the urge to impale one of them with a fork. Although, he's not sure which one of them would be his first choice…

His phone buzzes again. _Email Alert _is plastered across the screen display of the phone. This could be it. He holds his breath, opening his inbox and seeing that indeed there is a new email from _allmixedup. _Refraining from jumping on top of the table in excitement, he opens the email and stops breathing altogether.

_Extraordinary,_

_I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get back to you. Things around here at home and school have gotten pretty crazy, and I haven't had a ton of time for me. Hope I didn't drive you crazy waiting for a response (although, I'm selfishly hoping that you did go crazy waiting to hear from me). _

_Since I do consider you to be one of my closest friends, I couldn't agree with you more. Since we've both mentions that we live in central Ohio, it makes perfect sense to try and meet up in the near future. Maybe some lunch one day? Now that the season is winding down, my schedule is emptying out as well, so let me know about yours. _

_Above all, thanks for thinking of this. Fuck knows I could use a friend right now. _

_Tell me when and where, and I'll be there.  
allmixedup_

He wants to meet. _He wants to meet_. The concept is still working its way through Kurt's brain when he lets out a yelp of excitement, no longer able to contain his happiness. It's completely out of character for him, and even more than that, he's in public with his stepbrother and his girlfriend – but at this point, none of that matters.

* * *

**Thanks for all the great feedback from the last chapter! Love hearing what you think about the story, so keep it up :D**


	3. Chapter 3

"I can't meet today afterschool," Kurt muttered to Karofsky, fiddling with his pen cap all while managing to not look at the boy sitting next to him. Something that he always hated was fidgety people – how they couldn't keep themselves still for more than three seconds - and yet now he couldn't believe that he was resorting to that pesky habit, but he couldn't help it. His date with his mystery cyber man was in less than four hours, and it was getting to the point where was starting to count every minute until he was finally going to be able to meet _allmixedup_. Although, this concept really didn't help with anything except making him more nervous…

It probably didn't help that his own stomach was wringing itself with terror of getting caught. He had specifically planned the date and time of their meeting to make sure that Blaine or any of the other Warblers would be near that café. But that really didn't help to assuage the huge gaping hole in his chest that was his guilty conscience… So maybe if he could manage to not bring up the fact that he was going on a date with a guy who wasn't his boyfriend, it'd be great for convincing himself that this was all okay. Not that Dave Karofsky – resident psychopath and prowler of the hallways – would give a shit if Kurt was going on a date with someone other than Blaine. But the less people that heard about this, clearly the better.

Karofsky chuckled, smiling and shaking his head. One of the world's greatest mysteries to this day was when Dave Karofsky suddenly learned how to smile without it looking like he was about to go snack on small children. Because when Kurt looked over at him at the sound of his laughing, for what might have been the first time, he wasn't afraid for his life. Or his dick. "Oh, okay. What big plans have you got? The Lullaby Ladies Club practicing overtime for a performance at the local leper society?" He started shuffling through his backpack, the smile still lingering on his face.

It threw Kurt off guard for a second. What 'it' was, he wasn't exactly sure – the fact Karofsky had managed to come up with that excuse faster than he did, or the fact he and Dave Karofsky were carrying on what seemed to be a civil conversation. Where Kurt was telling him about his life, and Karofsky responded with something other than locking him inside of a dumpster. In fact, he was actually listening… "Uh, yeah. Glee rehearsal. That's definitely what I have." This was one of the only times Kurt was thankful that New Directions wasn't meeting. Because this afternoon, he was supposed to meet _allmixedup_ at The Lima Bean café. And if he told Karofsky the real reasoning, not only would it make him sound like a horrible boyfriend, but he didn't really need to give Karofsky more ammo – like Kurt meeting his cyber pseudo-boyfriend in some coffee shop.

"So when do you want to meet up again? Not that I'm all that skilled at this whole academic thing, nor do I really give two fucks about this whole thing… but I'm pretty sure we're nowhere near being close to finished, and we only have a little over a month left," Karofsky muttered to him, starting to scribble down the notes that were on the overhead into his notebook. As Kurt felt his mouth slowly slip open, watching the self-proclaimed bully/jock/local idiot take notes intelligently, he wondered when Karofsky had injected himself with the DNA of one of the AV kids he'd recently beat up. He must've sat like that for a few moments longer than he realized, because Karofsky eventually turned back to glare at him, growling at him to break him out of his fascination.

"Uh, I don't know. We have to actually start studying the photography; like real legitimate photographers who specialize in gay art. Which reminds me, Blaine referred me to a local artist in downtown Columbus that has a studio and is pretty known for his work in the gay subculture. He told me that if we called the guy, we could go and observe the art, interview the guy, all that…" Kurt muttered, a pang of guilt hitting him hard in the stomach as Blaine's name slipped past his lips. Apparently Blaine was good enough to help him on his project and setting him up with references and contact, but Kurt couldn't keep it in his pants for just him…

"Is Blaine that curly headed dweeb that tried to pep talk me? Is he your _lovah_?" Karofsky taunted, sticking his tongue out teasingly. Kurt only growled in response, rolling his eyes in disgust. There was no point in trying to defend himself against someone with the intelligence of a rock.

* * *

Once Dave pulls up to the Lima Bean, he's already regretting his decision to meet _extraordinary_. It's pretty clear from his screen name that this guy thinks he's pretty hot shit, and Dave would have to agree with him. From their months of emailing one another, telling the details of their sordid life – albeit in a much more vague manner – he's come to realize that _extraordinary_ is one of the few people he's met that actually cares about him. And maybe that's because he hasn't seen the true Dave Karofsky yet, or been able to understand what he's actually capable of underneath it all. He hasn't seen the monster behind everything.

But for now, it's nice to pretend that everything's okay.

His date told him that he was going to be at the coffee shop by 5:00, drinking a coffee and wearing a scarf, because according to him they're the perfect article of clothing.; not even weather can't affect Mother Nature's go-to accessory. When _extraordinary_ asked how he was going to be able to recognized Dave, Dave almost said that he was going to wear his letter jacket. But, thinking back on past experiences – okay, one particularly horrible and memorable experience that Dave still can't shake – being a part of the football team hadn't brought him much luck in the love department.

So instead, he goes for a simpler take, saying that he'll be recognized by his white t-shirt. Just in case, he grabs a zip-up sweatshirt out of the back of his truck, momentarily building his courage to just go in there and lay it all on the line. It's occurred to him multiple times over the past few days that he could be walking in to meet just about anyone on the face of the planet, and fuck knows how many freaks are on this planet.

But turning away from something like this never got him anywhere.

When he hears the bell above the door _ding_, it's a bit of a wake-up call for him, actually letting him know that he made it inside the building. Freezing at the door, he swallows down any fear that may still be lingering, clutches his sweatshirt between his fingers, and starts looking anywhere for a guy sitting alone wearing a scarf.

_Scarf…scarf…scarf…_

He finally sees one, and momentarily breathes a sigh of relief. Until he realizes it's looped around the neck of a soccer mom who's currently wrestling with her screaming triplet sons who are fighting over who gets the last bite of a cookie. It's safe to say that she's not who he's looking for.

Maybe standing by the exit isn't helping him with the most direct view of the building, but it seems that wherever he turns, there's nothing for him to see. No scarf, no telling coffee, no neon flashing sign that's screaming 'DAVE KAROFSKY HERE I AM JUST FOR YOU!' But with each minute that's passing, he's starting to lose all of the courage he'd built up in himself before coming in here; the exit route to his truck was starting to look more and more tempting. Perhaps he was right in the first place – he's not the guy who should be doing things like this. He's not ready for something like this yet.

Unless. White scarf.

All he can see at this point is the scarf, slowly taking in more of the person who's neck the scarf is loosely hanging around. He's turned away from Dave, and from just where he's standing, Dave can see that he's young. Actually - really young. He's thin, wearing a black sweater and jeans, and the white scarf is looped delicately around his neck. Everything about his is strangely familiar… Dave just can't place it, seeing only his back. But he's almost positive he's seen this guy before. As he's standing there like the lout he's so often proclaimed to be, the door opens behind him, the bell chiming once again.

Extraordinary turns around just slightly, Dave quickly ducking enough out of the way to not be seen. But he can still see him. And it's – it's…

It's Kurt Hummel.

Slumping against the cinderblock wall behind him, Dave is pretty sure the room around him is spinning. All this time, the person he had thought was the one who cared about him more than anyone else – was actually the person who hated him more than anything or anyone else in the entire world.

He was so fucked right now. He couldn't exactly go up to that table and just announce himself as who he really was without either being murdered by Kurt and his scarf, or without breaking Kurt's heart all over again. And the latter one was sadly the thing he was more worried about. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself down. Running a hand through his hair, he realized that there were three choices in this situation. And all of them sucked hardcore.

He could leave. Kurt could be stood up, and he could try to explain it all to him over email – make up some excuse about issues with his work, his family, school, his anything… Granted, if Kurt was smart – which Dave was pretty sure that he was – he wouldn't give _allmixedup_ another shot after that. And selfish as he was, Dave kind of wanted this to… dare he say, maybe work out?

He could stay and introduce himself as _allmixedup_. Which wouldn't end up pretty. For very, very, _very_ many reasons – all of which led to an ending that wasn't the one that Dave was hoping for.

Or, he could just go over there like he was planning to and just sit down. Maybe Kurt would get over himself and see past actual Dave to understand that the white t-shirt was all he needed to see. That sound strangely backwards and ironic, but it worked out in Dave's head…

With a sigh, he shrugged on his sweatshirt jacket, leaving it hanging open so that his white t-shirt was displayed proudly and openly so that everyone and their mother could see it. As he heads to the counter to order a cup of coffee, he can already feel Kurt's eyes on him. He already knows that Kurt can see that white t-shirt.

Which can only mean that Kurt will recognize him. He _has_ to.

His steaming coffee in hand, he wanders over to the small table where Kurt's sitting, his latte cold and a dog-eared copy of _Water for Elephants_ - which happens to be the latest book that _extraordinary_ told Dave he had picked up from the library's used book sale – spread in front of him.

"Hey Hummel," Dave says, the name sounding strange as it leaves his lips, for the first time in forever, there's no venom behind his voice as he says it.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asked, looking up at him, his eyes dark with a mix of bewilderment and anger.

Dave gestures to the seat that's across from Kurt. "Mind if I sit here?"

Kurt looks around, and Dave can't help but wonder if the other boy is in the midst of panicking to see if Azimio and the others are just waiting to pop out and take some sort of revenge on him. When nothing happens, Kurt looks back up at him, brows furrows and his jaw set. "No, I'm waiting for someone." It's practically a growl, and Dave is taken back. By that and by the earlier thought that had struck him of course. Is he thought of in no other way that to simply terrorize people?

He puts a hand in one of the pockets of his sweatshirt jacket, pulling it back as if it were absentmindedly to show off more of the clean, pristine white t-shirt he was wearing. The only person in this entire building who was wearing a white t-shirt… Kurt doesn't even flinch at the movement; he's still watching Dave expectantly for him to answer what he's doing there.

The answer is right on his tongue. _You know why I'm here. You should know. Just look at what I'm wearing. I know why you're reading that…_ If he could just bring himself to say that, it would make everything so much easier.

But that's not him.

"Well, I heard you practically creaming your panties at the mere mention of this place, so I figured I'd check it out…"

"Why?" Kurt asks incredulously, raising his eyebrows, closing up the book. "And since when do you listen when I speak?"

Trying not to let the hurt from that comment show, because as much of a jerk as he is, Dave's not that bad of a guy, he drops into the chair that's at the table next to Kurt. He may have to convince people about seventy-six times before they actually believe him, but it's true. He's just like every other high school kid – terrified of himself and wanting to fit in. Only times like 87238591384131093. "Just because I don't seem like it or make rude and sarcastic comments doesn't mean that I don't listen…"

Kurt snorts at that, very inelegantly. "Really? Did you listen that time you were shoving your tongue down my throat? Or that time you threatened to kill me?"

Dave wants to interject that there had been nothing to really listen to at those moments in time because Kurt hadn't been telling him anything… but he gets the point. – the point being that Kurt is still really hurt about what happened before he went to Dalton. "How many times do I have to apologize for that?" Dave says, a laugh coming through his voice as he smiles sadly. "You of all people should know how angry and bitter and self-loathing closeted guys can be…" Again, Kurt's watching him. This time, his look is pure curiosity, and it finally clicks with Dave after about three minutes of pure awkward silence.

"I never apologized, did I?"

Kurt shakes his head, dropping his gaze from Dave's face to what seemed to be a very interesting drop of coffee on the tabletop. Opening his mouth to start to say something, Dave was interrupted. "But that's alright. Because I've gotten over that. I've come to realize that I'm never going to get one from you. And even if you try, it won't mean a thing, because you're a fucking liar and it'll probably just be a part of your plan to get _me_ to trust you so _you_ can try to rape me or something…"

Dave sits in silence, the words rocking him to his core. He sitting there, feeling like his chest is being crushed from the fact that he can't breathe. The door behind him opens again, but he can't even move. He sees Kurt look to the door hopefully, his eyes bright and a smile waiting behind his lips. When the person entering doesn't match Dave's own description, Kurt's face falls.

Swallowing in a desperate attempt to get the dryness out of his throat, Dave turned back to face Kurt. He's so close to admitting everything to Kurt, and with the hurt still lingering behind the other boy's eyes, it might just be enough to push Dave over the edge. "So. Who is this person you're waiting for?"

"A guy."

"Blaine?" Over the lid of his coffee cup, Kurt shoots him a look to back off of the Blaine subject. Dave only shrugs; "You're all dressed up, I figured it must've been a date with Curly…"

With another sigh, Kurt props his chin in his hand. He looks so fucking sad, his lips pulled into a thin line. "I've never met him before. I just wanted to make a good first impression."

"How do you know him then?"

"I met him online…" A pink hue comes over Kurt's cheeks, to which only then does Dave realize that he's blushing. Dave takes a sip of his coffee and readjusts his shirt, wondering if Kurt even looked at what he was wearing.

At this point, Dave's grinning. He can't help it; an embarrassed and bashful Kurt Hummel is definitely a sigh to see, and one that certainly doesn't come around too often. "How are you even going to recognize him? And isn't he late by now?"

With a glance at his phone, Kurt grimaces. "Over twenty minutes. He's supposed to be wearing a white t-shirt, but he hasn't even shown up yet…"

The bell over the door chimes again, and Kurt looks up, Dave's eyes wandering over there as well. This time, it's an elderly couple arm in arm cooing over how quaint this establishment it. Kurt deflates sadly.

Dave turns to him, biting down on his lower lip. "Maybe something happened. You know, school, work, family?" he tries encouragingly, leaning closer to the other boy over the table. Kurt's glancing at him, his head tipped to the left strangely, like he's waiting for Dave to do something ridiculous. Pointing to the seat again, Dave asks "If he doesn't show, do you mind if I join you? We can talk about some more stuff for the project… If he shows up, I swear I'll leave."

There's a flash of something in Kurt's eyes before he snaps, his fist slamming down onto the table and shaking it in its entirety. "No!" he exclaims. "No, I don't want you to sit with me. No, I don't want you to try to be friends with me, or apologize to me, or act like we can be civilized towards one another, because we can't! We just can't! It's not going to happen after everything…" Kurt yelled angrily.

Slightly stunned, Dave sits back against the wire chair, blinking slowly. All this time until now, he'd never realized that Kurt was still so upset with him. Inhaling sharply, he puts his face of neutrality back on, trying to focus on anything other than Kurt. He can't show Kurt that his words have any effect on him, because that'll just be the beginning of the unraveling of this web. It sucks to hide his feelings, but hiding a little bit of anger or a little bit of sadness is nothing compared to the secret he had hid from everyone for so long.

Kurt's staring at him maliciously, the corners of his lips drawn down as he grips at the edge of the table furiously. The starkness of his knuckles – white against the black tabletop – makes Dave squirm a bit. "I think you should leave now," Kurt says curtly, dropping his eyes into his lap, long lashes hitting onto his cheekbones, and even from where he's standing, Dave can see the angry dark flush rising up over the back of Kurt's neck through his scarf. Only this time, it isn't bashfulness or embarrassment that's causing it. Kurt's pissed. And once again, he caused it.

Grabbing his coffee cup loosely in his fingers, he slowly stands up, his knees feeling incredibly weak. "Okay. I'll get out of here…" As he pushes his chair in, he looks back at Kurt, who's making a clear effort to look at anywhere but in Dave's eyes. Eventually, however, he looks up at Dave with an extremely guarded and hurt expression.

"I'm really sorry, Kurt. For everything that's happened. And I hope your guy shows up," he says softly before dropping his coffee cup into the garbage can and walking out the door. It's strange, because in most situations, he's always either planned on never apologizing to Kurt, or (fantasized) thought that he might do in the throes of wild, hot sex.

This way – the actual heartfelt, meaningful way - never came up. He's glad it didn't. Because it's hurts so fucking much. If he'd thought about it, he'd never have done it.

* * *

Kurt, no matter had angry or frustrated he had been, wasn't able to miss the quick flash of hurt that passed over Karofsky's face before he had walked out of the café. What was even stranger was how just as soon as Karofsky appeared to be hurt, the expression was gone, replaced by nothing but indifference. And as he sat there, with his coffee cup empty under his fingers, he couldn't help the ever expanding feeling of guiltiness expanding in his chest. Because Karofsky was actually being… well, normal. Or, at least as normal as he could be. He was trying to be nice – Kurt could tell at least that much. And in return, Kurt was a complete jerk.

By the time he looks down at his book again, the feeling in his chest temporarily subsiding, there's long shadows across the pages, and as he glances at his phone again, he sees that it's now two hours after he was supposed to meet _allmixedup. _The door's opened a few times in the midst of Karofsky leaving and now, but he realizes that they're never him. Because he's not coming.

He feels miserable by the time he leaves, and he can't even go to see Blaine because he's at an all-night rehearsal with the Warblers starting to prepare for Nationals. When he lays down on his bed facedown, he feels horrible. He can't even manage to land a fake, email persona. It must be a new record – Kurt Hummel gets rejected on all new boundaries of media… It's hard to not wonder if MixedUp had shown up, saw him, and then left. That, in return, makes him feel even worse, although he doesn't think that's true. MixedUp seemed like a real genuine guy; not a jerk. Maybe Kurt had just been too eager, too early – the only one he'd seen there today in a white t-shirt had been Dave Karofsky.

_AllMixedUp,_

_I waited today. For two hours to see you, and if I said that I wasn't disappointed that you didn't come, I would be lying. I was looking forward to meeting you, and that didn't happen. You're still a close friend of mine, and I never thought of you of someone who would blow off a date like that. If it makes any sense – I'd still like to expand this friendship outside of my computer screen. _

_Instead of you walking through that door, my enemy did. The same person who I've been telling you about for so long who I have the desperate urge to strangle. The oddest thing happened though – he tried to talk to me. But I can't help but hold onto the past that's between us and get angry whenever I see him. I know I should let go of it, because he was actually strangely nice to me today. But today, I was just so frustrated that it wasn't you there. I overreacted at him, and completely blew up. It wasn't fair, and I feel like a complete asshole. Because this time, this one and only time – he didn't deserve that. _

_If you've had second thought about meeting in person, I understand. Just please tell me. I swear I'll understand. I just want to keep this friendship between us going. It's meant so much to me over these weeks, and I don't want to lose it over something silly like this. _

_-Extraordinary_

Kurt doesn't even hear Finn come into the room or climb onto the bed next to him, but with his computer screen facing both of them, it's enough to be seen for his step-brother that Kurt doesn't have to explain the details of his mystery blind date. Finn sighs breathily. Before Kurt can even say anything in response to that, Finn's arm is on the smaller boy's shoulder, pulling him close in a slightly awkward man hug. It's strangely and uncharacteristically sincere for Finn, but for Kurt, it's just what he needs at this point…

* * *

**Thanks so much as always for your wonderful feedback and support for my story. It always makes me smile :D**


	4. Chapter 4

_AllMixedUp,_

_I waited today. For two hours to see you, and if I said that I wasn't disappointed that you didn't come, I would be lying. I was looking forward to meeting you, and that didn't happen. You're still a close friend of mine, and I never thought of you of someone who would blow off a date like that. If it makes any sense – I'd still like to expand this friendship outside of my computer screen._

_Instead of you walking through that door, my enemy did. The same person who I've been telling you about for so long who I have the desperate urge to strangle. The oddest thing happened though – he tried to talk to me. But I can't help but hold onto the past that's between us and get angry whenever I see him. I know I should let go of it, because he was actually strangely nice to me today. But today, I was just so frustrated that it wasn't you there. I overreacted at him, and completely blew up. It wasn't fair, and I feel like a complete asshole. Because this time, this one and only time – he didn't deserve that._

_If you've had second thoughts about meeting in person, I understand. Just please tell me. I swear I'll understand. I just want to keep this friendship between us going. It's meant so much to me over these weeks, and I don't want to lose it over something silly like this._

_-Extraordinary

* * *

_

Dave's sitting in his car, in an almost empty school parking lot with his Blackberry pressed so hard into his palm he's pretty sure it's going to leave indentations against his skin. He's almost positive that as he read this email, his heart may have just broken a little at the thought of Hummel sitting and writing it, wondering what could've happened to hinder their meeting. If only he had figured it all out… The time and date says that it had been sent last night, and Dave can picture that Hummel had wandered home from the café, lonely and upset and angry, and the only thing he could think to do was to write to the one person who actually understood him. He couldn't blame him. In fact, Dave had wanted to sit down and start to write a new email to Hummel, but something just felt off.

He was scared to. All this time he thought that he could be himself and no one would ever know the secrets behind what had happened in his past, nor would they ever care. Now that he knew the truth to everything else – that Kurt was actually Extraordinary – all he could think about when he started to put his fingers to the keyboard was second-guessing everything that lit up the screen. He had barely written a sentence out on a new email before erasing it all, wondering if he could've possibly dropped any hints to let Kurt know his real identity.

And even though there was a small part of him that said letting Kurt know his real identity wasn't such a bad thing, he knew that the both of them weren't ready for that. He might not have been the smartest guy in the world, but even he can understand that by confessing the whole story would ruin the friendship he's created with Kurt on the Internet, along with destroying any chance of him salvaging a relationship with Kurt in real life. And at this point, he'd like to have at least one of them.

Cars are starting to pull in around his, people jumping out around him and walking in towards school, but he can't bring himself to close the email on his phone and get out of the car. Instead, he's forced to close it when Azimio's at his window, knocking and grinning and talking all at once. Dave jumps a bit, shoving the phone into his pocket and climbing out of the car without a word. Azimio's still talking a mile a minute about something Dave doesn't have any clue about, but he opens his back door to pull out his backpack and his letterman jacket.

As the two of them start to walk towards the school, he slings the backpack over his shoulder, and contemplates pulling the jacket on as well. But over the past few weeks, he's felt less inclined to need to wear his so-called security blanket, so he just folds it over one of his arms.

"Boy, have we got a surprise for you!" Azimio crows, clapping him so hard on the back that it stings for a second. He can't tell if the gesture is some sort of comrade-bonding thing, or if it's supposed to be bordering on violent for the sake of it. Dave just smiles weakly, nodding in agreement. Until they've gotten up to the dumpster, which is when his stomach completely bottoms out.

Azimio's hand is back on his shoulder, gripping so hard he's pretty sure they're be bruises to prove he was here. "It's been over a week, man. Your time to get over yourself is up, so it's time for you to man up and show this fag who's boss around here." Dave closes his eyes, wishing that he was anywhere else in the world at any other time right now. Or at least had any other friends. Because the fact that his professed best friend is forcing him to throw someone in the dumpster against his own will is something he's not exactly ready for.

Hummel's standing in between Strando and Carnie, each who have a grip on his forearms. When Dave glances over just for a second at Kurt, their eyes meet, but Kurt immediately turns away. Here Dave was worrying about the difficulties in getting Hummel to fall for him; he wasn't even going to be able to stand a chance if he was consistently forced to throw him into dumpsters. By now, Azimio's practically walking him forward, and he doesn't even realize it until he's practically face-to-face with Hummel, who's still attempting to refuse to look at him – and failing miserably.

"We let that whole video from Jacob Ben Israel slide, you know? We – _me especially _– were pretty fucking understanding, and we went pretty fucking easy on you. Time's up, though. The fun's over, man. We need to know just how much of a man you really are…" Azimio's voice fills his ear, causing him to flinch. At this point, he's almost praying to some higher power that he's never believed in that Puckerman or Hudson or even Chang and Evans, for fuck's sake, would walk by and stop this. But by now it's like he's watching himself and all of this unfold, and he doesn't have any say in stopping it. Cooper pulls his jacket from his hands, and he can actually see it – he can _see_ himself reaching over and pulling Hummel into his arms and just dropping him into the dumpster. The others would cheer and everything would start to go back to normal with them and…

And Kurt Hummel would never forgive him. Nor would he ever forgive himself. Because after finally being on the receiving end of one of the slushies at the hand of Azimio, he's come to see that maybe this isn't who he wants to be. Maybe he never wanted to be this. All he had wanted to do was play football and hockey and baseball. No one ever said that bullying and tormenting people was part of the package.

It hits him somewhere deep that it's taken him _so fucking long_ to finally realize this. In the process of finding himself, which has taken his entire high school career, he can't imagine how many lives he's destroyed. Immediately his eyes flicker to Hummel. The best example of it.

"No," he whispers at first, his voice not quite at the level his confidence was currently at. But it was enough to perk the interest of a few of the other football players who were now staring at him with wide eyes.

Azimio laughs bitterly, turning to him. "What the hell did you just say?"

Dave clears his throat, which catches Kurt's attention. Quickly shooting him a glance that mildly said _this is not just for me_ that he hopes went unseen by the others, he sighs before turning completely to face Azimio. "I said. I said no."

The expression on Azimio's face dissolves from one of amusement to pure disgust. With just a few steps, he's up in Dave's face, whispering, "You're making a huge mistake. Sure you don't wanna give it another thought?"

Taking a deep breath, Dave reaches over and grabs his jacket forcefully from Cooper's hands. At any other moment, like every other moment they've been 'friends', he would've been intimidated by Azimio. Because by running against the crowd, and he'd find himself on the outside. He knows, he'd seen it happen before to Hudson, Puckerman, all those football guys who had joined song-and-dance club.

Mess with Azimio, and you lose.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he replied forcefully.

With a sneer, Azimio growls, lunging at him and for a split-second, Dave's almost positive that he's going to punch him in the face. But instead, Azimio's just in his face, whispering, "You'll regret this. Faggot." Dave instinctively shudders at the use of the word, one he had thrown around so casually before, but in turn is actually starting to get to him. It's even worse when a person, who supposedly is expected to have his back, on and off the field, throws it at him. But then again, he's never been the best example of that.

The guys are storming off, none of them saying a word and none of them even looking back to him. As they're making their ways into the school, Azimio eventually steps back from Dave.

His eyes are still glued to Dave as he powerfully grabs onto Kurt and shoves him onto the pavement. As Kurt sticks his hands out in an attempt to brace his fall onto the cement, landing with an audible thud, Dave can't help but wonder who's hurting more at this point…

* * *

"So, Romeo, how'd it go with your mystery man that you've been refusin' to tell me about?" Mercedes asks as she drops her tray down onto their table. Kurt lets out a noise similar to a squawk, because he doesn't know how Mercedes figures all this stuff out nor did he want to discuss this in front of their entire lunch table.

"What?" Tina exclaimed, sitting forward although she still had Mike's arms still looped around her shoulders, effectively pulling him forward. "What guy? Where'd you go? What about Blaine?" Kurt's almost forgotten that Tina's almost as much of a gossipmonger as Mercedes and he is. He shoots Mercedes a death glare out of the corner of his eye, but she just shrugs with a grin, taking a sip of her Diet Coke like this was all part of her plan.

"A guy I met on the internet. And sense the tone, please. No, it didn't go well. In fact, he never showed up…"

Artie perks forward, raising an eyebrow amused. "_He stood you up_?"

"No! No. No, I didn't get stood up," Kurt splutters, to which Artie just continues to smile at him. Kurt grumbles a bit before muttering "Shut up" under his breath at him.

"How long did you wait?" Mercedes asks.

"Two hours, and he never showed up. But you won't believe who did, trying to get on my good side… fucking Dave Karofsky…" The nerve of him. His head still feels like it's spinning from the past evening and morning's events. First, Karofsky tries to converse with him, and then refuses to throw him in the dumpster. He's so stuck in his own internal rant that he doesn't realize how the entire table is staring at him in disbelief by now.

"Karofsky?" Mike asks softly, untangling himself from Tina. "Did he – are you okay?"

Kurt nods, wondering how long it's going to take everyone to move on from the whole death threat Karofsky movement. Although, he really shouldn't be one to talk. His feelings about Dave Karofsky haven't settled into the area of completely black and white yet, so he can't complain about everyone else. "Yeah, I'm fine. In fact, the weirder thing was that he was actually… well, nice." He didn't think it was possible, but the table became even quieter at that point.

"Say what?" The look on Mercedes faces says it all at this point.

"I know! He's just came in and said that he wanted to check it out because he apparently listens when I talk and wanted to sit with me and then he apologized for everything that happened between the two of us…" Kurt's talking faster than he can think, stabbing at one of his cucumbers with an unnecessary force. That jerk. Thinks he can just walk into a coffee shop and chat him up for a few minutes before apologizing and think that everything is going to be okay? Not in his wildest dreams. "It was almost like he set out to ruin my date."

"I thought you said it wasn't a date." Mercedes mumbles, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, I mean – Blaine. Blaine's getting ready for Nationals, and I don't even know this guy, so no, it wasn't a date…"

"But he stood you up, so technically, it doesn't matter," Artie points out.

Kurt groans, dropping his head into his hands. "You don't even know if he stood me up. He could've just been – been delayed at school or stuck in traffic or … or-"

Brittany's grinning at this point, her eyes practically glowing. "Maybe he's dead." With a gasp, Kurt almost sends his tray flying. The rest of the table is laughing, but Kurt's just on this side of having a nervous meltdown. "Or maybe he was kidnapped by aliens. Or maybe he's a serial killer and out looking for the rest of his victims…"

With a loud exasperated yell, Kurt grabs his tray dramatically and gets up from his seat. "I think I would know if I had been chatting with a serial killer who liked communicating aliens and was on the verge of death. So thanks for all your votes of confidence and showing me just how much my life is a complete joke… Jesus Christ…"

They're calling after him, but he doesn't even turn around. He knows he went a little overboard back there, but it wasn't meant for them. If only AllMixedUp had shown up. None of this would've happened…

Later that day, he's supposed to go meet Blaine for some coffee after school. But there's something itching beneath his skin that he just can't place. When he calls up Blaine and finally hears his voice for what seems to be the first time in forever, he recognizes the feeling.

It's guilt – hot and tight and heavy and smothering all at once.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine asks, his voice sounding concerned. Behind the wheel of his car, Kurt shuts his eyes in a preemptive strike to tell any tears that might come forward to stop. Because all this time he's been telling himself that it's okay to go ahead and see AllMixedUp, he hasn't spent as much time even considering what would happen if Blaine found out. And he's fought so hard for Blaine, and yet he's just going to throw that all away.

"Nothing," he mumbles unconvincingly, pinching down on the bridge of his nose. "I just – I have to cancel our plans. I'm not feeling very well…" He can hear voices in the background of the call, and it's most definitely a Warblers rehearsal, so there's no reason to keep Blaine waiting.

"Kurt, are you sure? Do you want me to come see you?" Blaine asks, but Kurt declines, knowing how busy he is with preparing for their performance, just saying what Blaine would want to hear until they can say good-bye.

When he finally hangs up, he curls his hands around the steering wheel, dropping his forehead against the backs of his hands. He's exhausted emotionally and he's alone for the first time since last night at the café. All he wants to do is curl up and sleep for days, not talking to anyone or thinking of anyone but his _loving boyfriend_.

But when his mind wanders back to AllMixedUp, the tears finally come forward, soaking his hands and down the sleeves of his shirt.

* * *

The next few days pass by uneasily for Dave. Every time someone approaches him from behind, someone slams a locker near him, some calls out his name – he's practically jumping out of his own skin. He's knows that it's becoming pretty obvious to the rest of the school as well; the separation between him and the rest of the jocks. Considering that he's no longer part of their crowd and he no longer wears his letterman jacket like a second skin, people have taken notice. In fact, they've taken notice by no longer being scared shitless by him.

One day out of the blue when he's at his regular locker, Hudson approaches him. "Hey," he starts cautiously, looking around the hallway, almost like he's checking to make sure it's safe. Dave stares into his locker, wondering what in the world Hudson could be coming to talk to him about. Eventually he turns to face him, not saying anything. Only, it's more out of panic than out of threat, because he can only picture Hudson sucker punching him for everything that happened with Hummel. Hudson rocks back and forth on his heels uncomfortably, not making eye contact with him for a second before sighing and practically deflating.

"Look. I don't really know what happened between you and Azimio, but it's obvious you're on the outs now, and…" Before Hudson can even finish the thought, Dave already knows where this is going. Strangely, this has happened once before, and Dave had made it clear what his decision was. "And I just wanted you to know that I – that we over in Glee – Puck, Mike, Sam, myself – we all know how that feels, and we've all risen above that to make it back to where we were while not losing who we are. So…" Hudson sighs, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, and for the first time, Dave understands how difficult this is for him.

He slams his locker shut. "I appreciate the thought, especially considering the history between me and Hummel. You're right about everything, but at this point, I need to focus on me. So thanks, but no thanks."

With that he starts to walk away from where Hudson's standing before the other boy calls out to him. "You don't have to join. If you ever just need. Somewhere to turn to."

The thought's constantly in the back of his head every minute of the following days, but he realizes that by even setting foot into the chorus room, it'll just make Azimio angrier. And considering that he doesn't know what he has up his sleeve, it's best not to push him. Besides, him and Hummel still aren't on the best terms. The two of them haven't even spoken to one another since the showdown at Lima Bean.

As he's sitting at his computer later that night, that constant feeling of hyper-alertness is stuck in his skin. He wants to stop thinking about Kurt and that constant look of sadness that's drawn across his features whenever he comes around.

But he can't. And right now, every muscle in his body wants to be able to change Kurt Hummel and take all that sadness away. Frowning, he opens up a new email message even though the last interaction he's had with Kurt/Extraordinary was almost three days ago. The least Kurt deserves is an explanation.

_Extraordinary,_

_I want to apologize for what happened earlier this week. I can't even find the words to describe how bad I feel about what happened that night. I'm sorry I upset you like that, and even more that I have no explanation. I never wanted to hurt you, and I know that I did. _

_I'm sorry you had to run into your enemy again as well. I never wanted to put you into a situation like that, because it definitely sounds like the two of you have history with one another. But, I hope at some point the two of you can work it out. He sounds like he'd forgive you. _

_I hold your friendship higher than any one else's, and I sincerely hope that you'll forgive me._

As he's rereading it, he notices how dramatic it sounds, as well as how out of character for him it sounds. It's like a boyfriend begging for forgiveness from his lover rather than a Dave apologizing to his Kurt. He doesn't want to send it immediately, because he'd like to rewrite it. But when he looks up at the time on the computer, he notices that he's supposed to be at Kurt's _house_ in less than fifteen minutes to work more on the project, so he hastily clicks send, knowing that Kurt won't get it for at least another three hours. That way, he doesn't have to think about it…

* * *

"Are you sure it's okay for me to be here? Like… in your room, let alone your house?" Dave mumbles as he sits down on the utmost corner of Kurt's bed. When he'd first walked into the room, he'd mainly been expecting large pictures of Britney Spears and Madonna and other weird people he wouldn't recognize but Hummel worshipped. But strangely, it actually looked like a normal guy's room. Apart from the small vanity in the corner, and the giant walk in closet, of course.

Kurt waves a hand without even looking at him. "Finn knows you're here. My dad's down in the shop, and Carole's out. Even if my dad comes home, I've slowly been breaking it to him that…" he stops, flipping through a book and folding down one of the pages. "That we're working together on this project," he mumbles eventually, before slamming the book shut and dropping it onto his desk.

Dave frowns, dropping his head. For a millisecond, he could've sworn that Kurt was going to say something else.

"So, we're all set up to meet with Harley, the photographer Blaine set me up with, a week from this upcoming Friday. Is that okay with you?" The fact that Kurt is walking around the room and talking like Dave isn't even there is a little disarming.

"Yeah, that's fine…"

The two of them sit in silence, Kurt flipping through photographs and scribbling down notes or writing on the photocopies every so often. Dave is supposed to be working on a slideshow that's going to go along with their presentation to the class, but something's throwing him off - he just can't focus. Maybe it's from being in this house.

Or. Maybe it's from the fact that he can't stop watching Hummel hold his pencil with his teeth.

Finally, Dave sighs, putting the computer on the ground by his feet. "Aren't you going to interrogate me or yell at me or something of the sort? Like normal?"

"About what?" Hummel doesn't even look up from the book he has propped against his knees.

"About our meeting at the café the other night," Dave mutters, running a hand through his hair. He wants so badly to tell Kurt the truth. To tell him everything. But it would ruin everything in process.

"No, I don't really care. Like I told you before, we aren't ever going to be cordial towards one another, so let's not start now," Kurt says sharply, still not bothering to look up at him from behind his book.

With a sigh, Dave rubs a hand over his face. This is much harder than he expected it to be. "Or the fact that I didn't throw you in the dumpster?" he continues, his voice much softer than before. He's not expecting Kurt to answer following that last response, but it's more for him. Not throwing someone into a huge pile of garbage shouldn't seem like a big achievement, and it's sad that for Dave it is, but he realizes that be deciding to stand up to Azimio, he's making a change.

"I know you hate me. And I'm almost positive that that's something that's never going to change. But," his voice falters for a second, taking him a second to regain his composure. "But I've screwed myself over with the football team. They know about me being gay, and you of all people know that that's not something they really enjoy – especially with one of their own. And as much as we want to keep denying the past that exists between the two of us, it's clear that the entire school knows something happened, including Azimio. The dumpster thing didn't help us out, either. I realize I fucked up, and I'm not expecting you to accept my apology or anything…" His heart feels like it's stuck in his chest and he can't breathe and he can feel Kurt's eyes on him and it's like everything is just so close to spilling out into the open.

He sighs, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "But what I do expect you to do is keep an eye out for yourself. I can handle myself against them. You know what angry football players are like – and that was only me. And – and I don't really want something bad to happen to you because of a beef they have with me. Okay?" By this point, his voice is shaking uncontrollably, and he himself is in disbelief of what he just said.

When he finally looks up, Kurt's watching – _gaping_ at him intently over the edge of his book, peering at Dave with a confused expression. His lips are parted slightly, like he wants to say something but can't bring himself to do so. Dave eventually clears his throat again, turning away from him, because it suddenly feels like the walls are closing in around the two of them and the twenty or so feet separating them now feels like only two feet. That's his signal that he needs to leave. He grabs his laptop and climbs to his feet, making his way towards Kurt's bedroom door.

"It shouldn't matter why you didn't throw me into the dumpster… What matters is that you didn't do it," Kurt replies quietly, his voice just barely above a whisper. It stops Dave in his tracks, but he doesn't turn around. Instead, he just stands there, frozen against the doorframe of Kurt's room. There's a beat of silence, and it's so quiet that Dave almost misses it as he's starting to walk out the door, but the "thank you" that follows it doesn't go unheard.

* * *

**I love Dave Karofsky. So much. He is such a complex character, and I really really really wish Ryan would promote Max Adler to a regular for season 3. Anyways, thanks as always for reading, and if you're feeling extra-nice, leave me some feedback :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt's currently laying horizontally on Blaine's bed, flipping through the Warblers' makeshift yearbook from Blaine's freshman year between texting Artie. Blaine's in the middle of typing furiously on his laptop, singing something by Katy Perry, and texting someone himself. It's nice to be back here in Dalton, in an environment that's nonthreatening and not confusing and where he can completely understand what's up and what's down and how people will always act. There's no chance for anyone to surprise him out of the blue and complete turn everything he's ever come to learn and know on its head.

_remember that guy i told you guys about lunch the other day?_ he sends to Artie, dropping his phone down right beside his elbow and looking up at Blaine. Blaine's back is to him, and he's kind of oblivious at this point. Kurt wishes almost that he'd turn around from his desk chair and his homework and just come over to Kurt. That he'd forget all about whatever he's working on and lay down beside Kurt, talking to him about his day and Kurt's day, and their conversation ending in long and hot kisses. He wants his Blaine back. He wants their relationship to go back to normal – to the way it had been before AllMixedUp and before Blaine was so fucking distant and they barely spoke to one another.

_the one who stood you up? ;P yeah… _buzzes onto Kurt's phone, causing him to grumble under his breath and roll his eyes. Only Artie would be able to find amusement out of something like this, but then again, that's kind of who he is. Which is why Kurt's having this conversation with him of all people. He needs that lack of seriousness right now. If he tried to talk about this with Finn or Rachel or Mercedes or anyone else, it would just get weird. But Artie always kept it cool because he was weird like that. It was like he kept Kurt weird too, and Kurt liked that.

_shut up, jerk. yeah, that one. he apologized to me. no explanation or anything, but apologized…_ With a sigh, he continues to flip through the book the Warblers had compiled two years back to illustrate their journey to take Sectionals, Regionals, and their battle against Vocal Adrenaline at Nationals. To look at people like Blaine, Wes, David… all of them in their gawky and awkward freshmen and sophomore years brings a smile to his lips all while making him nostalgic for his time spent here.

_weird. did you forgive him?_

_well, that's the thing_. _i want to, but i'm still pretty hurt, you know? i just have to get over myself… _At this point, Kurt hits the last few pages of the spiral bound book, in which the Warblers have taken pictures of each class and outlined their strengths and how important they were to the group. Without really reading over the senior or junior blurbs, he quickly reads the things written to Wes and David and the other sophomores of that year. It's nice, to think how much the Warblers mean to one another. He instinctively flips to the next page, not thinking anything of it. But when he looks down at the picture, he freezes. Because at this point, he's almost positive that his eyes are playing tricks on him. In the grainy black and white picture in front of him, there's two nerdy yet adorable figures with their arms wrapped around one another's shoulders, huddled together. One of them, of course, is Blaine.

The other is unbelievably Sam Evans.

Kurt looks down at his phone to see that Artie's replied to him, but he can't even remember what they were talking about at this point. He can't even focus on anything other than the picture that's sitting in front of him. Everything he had been worrying about before, all of his other problems that they had been talking about and he had been fretting over – there were so far from where his mind was currently at. The fact that Blaine had just so happened to not mention the fact that Sam - who he _knows_ is one of Kurt's friends back at McKinley - was in Warblers, went to Dalton, and was clearly close friends with him… it's beyond weird.

He looks up to Blaine, who has his headphones on as he spins around in his desk chair while tapping furiously at his phone to send more texts. Kurt can't understand who in the world he could possibly need to be texting at this point, considering that Blaine hasn't even mentioned friends outside of the Warblers or even Dalton Academy – meaning that his friends are within reach. He could simply walk outside into the hallway or call them up and talk to them in person. Why text?

Instead of asking him about the picture, he stops and simply looks back at the writing below the picture. The upperclassmen in the Warblers had gone on and on, praising Blaine and Sam's dedication to not just the club, but to helping out one another. They spoke of the deep friendship the two held and how it brought a lightness and cheerfulness to the group. How the two of them always stuck together when things became tough.

How they were the rock of the group even in their first year here, and nothing could tear the two of them apart.

As Kurt tried to take a breath, tried to get some more air into his lungs, it felt like nothing was working. He felt like he was drowning on dry land. Even though his stomach was twisting itself into knots prematurely, trying to let Kurt know it knew something else was wrong with what he'd just found out, he wanted to just keep reading. After the formally typed print, all he could see was scrawled out, messy handwritten words littered over the bottom of the page. It was easy to read it at first – well, easy apart from the whole fact that he could clearly understand that it had been written by Sam himself. But as Kurt found himself stumbling over phrases like '_you mean more to me than the world'_ and _'you're the best thing that's ever happened to me'_ and _'I'm so lucky to have met you'… _or finally _'I love you so much, Blaine_' – that's when all the words started to blur together under the tears that he couldn't stop from pushing their way onto his cheeks. Because it hurt – how badly he wants to just ignore all of this and walk over and wrap his arms around Blaine and hold on forever.

But the fact that Blaine clearly and deliberately didn't tell him about an ex-boyfriend (who apparently isn't gay anymore either, go figure), it can only make him wonder why. And as he wonders, it becomes clearer. Blaine gets up from his chair, muttering something about going across the hall to check whether or not he has to finish off some homework for Italian, saying he'll be back in a few minutes. As soon as the door has been shut for about 7 seconds, Kurt's sitting up on his bed, his head swimming in a rush of blood. It's sneaky and nosy and so far beyond where Kurt's standards lie. But as he stands above Blaine's desk, grabbing the phone that's just sitting there idly, his fingers itching to check the text message history, he stops himself for a second. He realizes it would be easier and much more honest if he just asked Blaine the truth.

Then again, it's not like Blaine's been exactly forthcoming with the truth in the first place.

His fingers are moving before he can stop them, and once he's looking at message history, he knows. He sags into the chair bonelessly, wondering how he could've been so stupid. Just through the emoticon hearts and the series of _xs_ and _os_ that litter each message, he knows. It almost makes him sick – the thought of how Blaine and Sam thought that they could just pull this one over on him. But they did. And from how far Blaine's messages go back, it looks like they've been doing it for a while.

He means to place the phone back down on the desk, he really does. Rolling it over between his fingers, he wanders over to grab his jacket and pull on his shoes. It's almost like he's watching himself as he does it, because later that night, he can't even remember what was running through his head as he's gathering his things. As he grabs his car keys from Blaine's desk, it makes sense to just put the phone down back where it had been before.

But when he chucks the phone across the room and lets it slam into the wall, his own voice echoing off the walls in a yell of anger, what makes sense really isn't the most important thing on his mind.

* * *

_AllMixedUp,_

_I just broke up with my boyfriend. It wasn't pretty. I really wish it had gone better, but after finding out that he's been cheating on me for the past four months with one of the guys I thought was my friends, I got mad and threw his iPhone at a wall before storming out without even telling him. Kind of stupid, don't you think? _

_Afterwards, he called me up and asked me what the fuck, which I kind of can't blame him for, but I asked him that right back and called him out on the whole cheating thing, which I was met with a stone cold wall of silence before a great road map of excuses. He wants to meet me and talk to me, explain everything, but I really don't want to see his face at this point. Because I'm afraid I might punch him. Or at least jab him in the eyes…_

_It just sucks. My whole life sucks right now. This was really the first guy I've ever fallen hard for. Then, he was the absolute first guy who reciprocated my feelings towards him. And now this. It's a great way of making a person feel like complete and utter crap. _

_So, now I am single, feeling completely and utterly hopeless, and I'm also broke. Oh, and I have a sworn enemy who has decided to make a complete transformation and be nice to me now, even though I still hate him, and he's warning me that his enemies might come after me because of the history we have with one another. _

_My life's a joke…_

_E_

If the overall message behind Kurt's email wasn't as heartbreaking as it sounded, Dave might've laughed. Because in all honesty, Kurt Hummel may be the only one who's more self-deprecating than he is. Hummel's just better at making humor out of his misery. And as horrible as he knows it sounds, Dave can't help the small glimmer of hope that lights in his chest as he realizes that Kurt doesn't have a boyfriend anymore. Granted, this newfound piece of information did come out of his old boyfriend cheating on him. However, the fact that he's single _and_ noticing that Dave is being 'nice' to him? It's worth a little bit of rejoicing.

_Your life isn't a joke. _

_You're just moving on to something better and brighter. It may feel like this is one of the worst times in your life, but when you've gotten some space between this dark time and yourself, you'll see that this is the right path to take. I'm not the person to ever lecture on love, seeing that I've never been in a real relationship, but if you're unhappy in love, it's best to let go. _

_I hope things get better. You deserve to be happy._

_allmixedup._

After hitting send, Dave drops his head into his hands. No matter how many times he's told himself that there's no way he could've avoided this – this _whatever_ between Kurt and himself, somewhere deep down he can't help but feel horribly guilty about it all. Because he knows that Kurt has all along been hoping for some knight in shining armor, some hero to whisk him off his feet and be _the one_ he's been searching for.

And Dave? He's no hero.

* * *

"Dude, are you sure you're okay? Because I can cancel with Rachel… She'll totally understand if I tell her what's going on. Or I could even bring her home and you two can, I don't know, do whatever you two do…" Finn asks, leaning against a row of lockers in the boys' locker room. Kurt takes a deep breath, knowing that Finn is really worried about him. Ever since he stormed into the house last night, screaming on his phone, it was clear to the entire Hummel-Hudson household that something was wrong. He told Carole and his dad that Blaine and he were just having a disagreement because at that point he wasn't up for their coddling. But Finn – damn him – saw right through the whole thing and came into his room later, asking him what happened. And at that point, Kurt just needed someone to listen, so the whole thing spilled out.

But at this point, as happy as he is that his step-brother is finally so in tune with his personal life or his emotions, and actually gives a shit about him, he kinda misses the oblivious Finn, because all he wants is to be alone and be miserable.

"Yeah, I'm sure. But thanks. Go have fun with your girlfriend, Finn," Kurt says with a weak smile. Right now, he doesn't want to talk to anyone. He just wants to crawl into his bed and pull the covers over his head, not letting anyone in ever again. Because it's slowly becoming obvious to Kurt that once he lets a person get close to him and get to know him and get past all the superficial walls he's spent so long building up in an attempt to keep everyone out… they just manage to tear him right back down.

Finn sighs, long and drawn out, before pushing himself off of the lockers. He starts to walk out, before abruptly turning back to Kurt. "He didn't even say who it was? Who he was seeing behind your back? You didn't ask?"

It sucks, being so noble and nice to people all the time. Because Kurt realizes that with a word, he could easily ruin Sam Evans' reputation. But Kurt's not like that. He didn't tell Finn the entire truth. He doesn't want to ruin anyone's reputation. And granted, he's hurt and angry and wants to rip both of them a new one. But he doesn't hate them. There's a part of him that still loves Blaine. And Sam, he's his friend. And if he's going through a tough time – it's not really up to Kurt to force him through all of it.

Kurt shakes his head. "No, nothing. It doesn't really matter, though…" Which is true, because it doesn't matter anymore. Blaine and Kurt are over. It doesn't matter who Blaine cheated on him with. Perhaps the thing that's hurting him the most is that he's realizing that even if he found the texts or not, their relationship was heading towards Splitsville anyways. And the only one that makes him angry at is himself. Because it's just another reminder that Kurt can't hold onto people. He can't get them to love him for who he is. And when he does, it never lasts.

It's like he's not real, not human. Like no one can touch him without breaking him into a million pieces.

As he's standing and staring into his locker lifelessly, he wonders what makes him so fragile. Then, without a word, Finn's arms are around him, pulling him into a bonecrushing hug. At first, Kurt's tempted to pull away because it's Finn and because they don't really ever hug and because of just everything else considered. But when Finn's whispering to him that everything's all going to be okay in the end, he can't help it. He falls into it, pulling the taller boy closer and burying his head into Finn's shoulder, letting himself be reminded of the fact that Finn really cares about him and it's not just a one-way street. There is someone else out there who cares about him as much as he cares about them…

Time passes and Kurt's really not aware of it because he's so wrapped up in the moment. The next thing he realizes is that Finn's gone, and he's sitting on the bench in front of his open locker. He's still dressed in his Cheerio uniform, and if it were any other day, he'd go through his normal process of undressing, showering, and changing before heading out to his car and heading home. At this point, though, he feels like he can barely keep himself on two feet. With a groan, he grabs his bag out of his locker and slams it behind him, making a mental note to himself that he needs to remember to bring his Cheerio uniform back to school tomorrow. Ever since he came back from Dalton, Coach Sylvester begged him to take his old position back as main flyer on the squad. He wasn't sure if it was a sneaky way for her to keep an eye on him since she may have actually had a heart somewhere in that black hole soul of hers, but he accepted on the condition he didn't have to wear the uniform every single day.

It's already late, and he can't wait to get out of here. The locker room is empty, and he bets that the entire school would mirror that sentiment. So as he's heading to the door of the locker room and hears someone call out 'Hummel', he freezes. Because he knows that there's a select group of people who reserve his last name as their calling card, and it's no one he's interested in seeing right now.

He hears the footsteps behind him, but his hand is stuck around the handle of the door and he can't bring himself to walk through it or back up and turn around. His blood feels like ice in his veins. As he starts to reach slowly into his pocket, reaching for his phone, he knows that they're closing in behind him. His heart's pounding in his chest, and there's no chance of getting out. Every instinct is telling him that he needs to keep moving, keep walking through that door.

But there's no chance. There's just a horrible pain in the back of his head, and then nothing.

* * *

The training gym reeks like something fierce and Dave doesn't even want to think about what could be growing on some of the equipment. It's not like he's a chick or whatever, but there are definitely some boundaries that no one crosses, and one of them is the distinct line between sanitary, and just plain disgusting. As he finishes his last set of reps on the weight bench, he places the weight above his head onto the rack, wiping his hands onto his threadbare t-shirt. Sighing, he looks up at the clock, noticing that it's a lot later than he had originally thought it was. Azimio had told him that he was running to the locker room almost an hour ago to grab his things and then they were going to leave. Yet he hadn't come back yet.

Frowning, Dave turned off the stereo and grabbed his own stuff, closing up the room behind him. Throwing his keys around his neck, he quickly typed out a text to Azimio asking him where he was.

_takin care of bizness – ull thank me l8r_

Dave stopped in the hallway, wondering what the hell that could mean. Azimio was never really the brightest bulb in the pack, and Dave couldn't even think of him coming up with some sort of business that he needed to take care of. Instead of trying to work the answer out of him over text message, he dialed Azimio's number, leaning against one of the walls as the number rang.

"Hey man, I'm busy. I'll see you later," Azimio said shortly, clearly trying to get off the phone.

"Wait," Dave started. "Where are you? You told me to wait for you down here… I don't get it. What's going on?

There was a laugh – dark and low bubbling up over through the phone. "I'm just lookin' out for my boy, that's all. I've always got your back. And I'm puttin' an end to this weird-ass shit you've been doin'…" Putting his hand over his forehead, Dave's thoughts were running much faster than the rest of his mind; everything seeming like it's in turbo drive except for himself. He still can't comprehend what Azimio is up to, but all he knows is that it can't be good. "Hummel turned you homofabulous. He _changed_ you, man. He made you into something you're not. And I'm gettin' him back for that. He's not gonna be problem anymore…"

With that, the line goes dead. The phone drops from Dave's face slowly, disbelief setting in over what exactly is happening at this moment. Azimio. And Kurt. In a fight with one another.

Dave's running before he can even finish the thought.

As soon as he opens the door to the locker room, his hand is searching for the light on the wall. It's dark and empty and way too quiet for anything normal to be happening. When he walks inside of the now-lighted room, he almost trips, and for a minute he almost thinks it's over his own feet. Until he looks down and realizes that it's over a backpack. A backpack that he's come to realize and recognize as the one that lays on the floor next to his in Art History class. That, and the fact that it's a Prada one gives him a pretty clear heads up that it's Hummel's bag. Swearing under his breath, he jogs forward, hoping to whoever's listening that Hummel's still here. And that Azimio isn't.

Why couldn't Kurt just listen to him? Just hang around Hudson or Puckerman like always? Azimio couldn't have gotten his chance in if those two were with Hummel all the time. There wouldn't have been that opportunity. And all Dave can think about right now is _what if_ and _if only_, thinking what's going to happen if… It's so hard, thinking that all of this has come about because he wasn't honest with everyone he called his friends – with himself from the beginning. By doing so, he just caused everyone pain.

The noise is small at first, so quiet that he almost misses it on the first time around. It's a groaning noise, thick and long, full of pain. When he finally rounds the corner, he finds him. Hummel's leaning, although that's being a bit generous in that aspect, against the wooden bench between the two rows of lockers. His head is laying flat against the bench, and every few seconds, a pained noise escapes from his lips. From where Dave's standing, he can see the sickeningly colored green bruising starting to form along Kurt's hairline and dripping down the side of his face onto his neck, where there's a long, oval shaped bruise. When he stands there and looks at it a bit longer, the shape of it is a bit strange. The long circular part, with parts branching off of it… it's almost like…

_A hand. It's a fucking hand._

Azimio had grabbed Hummel around the neck and smashed his face into a locker. Probably more than once. Dave crouched down next to Kurt, gently taking his face into his hands. There was so much running through Dave's head at this point – most of it thinking about how he was planning to rip Azimio's skull out through his mouth the next time he saw him – but as he took a deep breath, trying to calm the overwhelming sickening feeling of guilt that just kept rising in his veins, he realized that right now, he was the only one Hummel had. And knowing that was enough to wipe out any of the guilt he was feeling, because he could worry about all that later. Hummel, though, he needed him now.

Kurt blinked blearily at him, wincing immediately as soon as he opened his eyes. He moaned softly, closing his eyes and turning his head away, closer into Dave's hand. Dave swallowed thickly, aware that he hasn't been this close to Hummel since he kissed him. Running his thumb softly over the quickly darkening skin, his breath caught. When would Hummel catch a break? And more importantly, could Dave ever be around Kurt without causing him so much pain?

"What… what?" Kurt eventually mumbled weakly, trying to push himself forward in Dave's arms. As he finally reached a point where he's almost sitting straight up, he turned a sick shade close to gray and collapsed against Dave's chest with another groan. Taking a deep breath, Dave tried to contemplate between what was going to be the best option at this point. He could try to bring Kurt back to the Hummel's house, but facing Mr. Hummel with a practically unconscious Kurt after threatening to kill him didn't seem like the best option. And neither did bringing him back to his own house. Trying not to jostle him as much as possible, Dave pulled Kurt into his arms and got to his feet, heading towards the training room, where he could lay Kurt down on one of the cots.

It wasn't great, but at this point, it was better than nothing.

* * *

_Come on, Kurt. Open your eyes. Wake up. You're scaring the shit out of me at this point… just – just wake up…_

The voice was strange. It was one he'd never heard before, and yet it sounded so familiar. It reminded him of when Blaine would talk to him or even sing to him, and the two of them would doze off to the sound of his voice singing drowsily.

_Wake up…_

The voice was louder now, more assertive. If he had to guess, he'd say that it even sounded scared. Maybe he should wake up, claw his way out of this heavy darkness that was settled around him But as he became more cognizant of the darkness that was around him, he also became aware of the stabbing pain that was rocketing through his head. It throbbed with every second, making it ever so tempting to just drift off again, deeper into the numbness of the black.

Besides, all that was waiting for him on the other side was pain. Heartbreak, sadness, fear, anger… everything. If there was never anything good to come from that side, what was the point in going back? All that was going to be there for him was the reminders that he hadn't been good enough for Blaine, and that Azimio wanted to kill him, and that he couldn't even satisfy a guy he'd never met over the internet.

_Please. Wake up._

But the voice was still there, persistent as ever. And it wouldn't go away, the concern threading through the seeping shadows and pulling them apart with every word. And even though Kurt didn't know who it was or where it was coming from, he didn't want to let go of the voice. He wanted to keep a hold onto it.

"Wake up," he whispered softly into the shadows around him. His voice faded away almost immediately, swallowed as if he had never spoken. Kurt stopped after that, ashamed to admit that part of him wanted to stay here, safe in the dark, away from everything that was trying so hard to tear him down and break him apart on the other side. Part of him wanted to give up on it all, yearned to give up. God, he was so tired of keeping up this façade of being brave. And he hurt so much. How could he be expected to go on? Hadn't he given everything he had to give?

But he couldn't. Because that wasn't who he was. Not yet, and not ever.

"Wake up," he told himself more firmly.

The shadows seemed to weaken, threads of light making their way through the overwhelming darkness around him. "Wake up," he repeated, choking slightly on the words in his mouth, like they were poison. "Wake up, just wake up." The light grew brighter, the shadows drowning out more and more quickly.

Kurt's eyes snapped open, a cry of pain escaping from his lips as he jolted up.

Almost immediately, he squeezed them closed again, one hand flying to his head as even the few escaped bits of light from the fluorescent overheads that had been covered created a feeling not unlike a white-hot poker stabbing through his temple. He breathed shallowly for a few seconds, biting down so hard on his bottom lip he thought he might split straight through it and praying with all his might to whatever might be listening for some reprieve from the pain.

"Thank fucking god."

The voice. It was back again, and it was right next to him. Inhaling a harsh breath through his nose in an attempt to quell the nausea quickly settling into his stomach, he slowly opened his eyes. This time around, the lights weren't as bright, but the room was spinning shakily, on some sort of tilted axis. Within a few seconds, his vision finally settled from doubled to blurred to almost clear, and he let his eyes slowly take in his surroundings.

He'd never been in here before, but from what he could tell this was the athletic training room. And he was currently laying on one of the cots. With his head resting in the lap of Dave Karofsky, who was holding a bag of ice against his head and looking down at him in terror. "Karofsky?" he asked, his tongue feeling so thick in his mouth that all the letters mushed together into an unintelligible mess. The other boy nodded slowly, still not taking his eyes off of Kurt. As he nods, the ice bag shifts, causing Kurt to shiver. "What -happened?" he mumbled as clearly as possible, even though it takes him a few tries to get 'happened' out.

Karofsky swallowed and looked away, still hanging onto the bag between his fingers. "Azimio happened," is all he said, and at that point, it was all he really needed to say for Kurt to understand. Kurt took a deep breath, pushing himself off of Karofsky's leg into a sitting position. He may have faltered and few times and eventually had to lean back against Karofsky again…The fact that he's sitting here on a cot with Dave Karofsky, who had threatened his life, but now had probably saved his life this time around is quite possibly the thing he least expected to happen in his life. Never would he think that Dave Karofsky would've come to his rescue. Or stayed with him after. Or held onto him and talked him and …

And been worried about him.

This wasn't real life.

But when Kurt finally felt the wetness tracking down his cheeks as the adrenaline or shock or whatever began to wear off, he wiped at it furiously with the back of his hands, because the last person he'd want to see him cry is Dave Karofsky. What he's not expecting, though, is for Karofsky to loop an arm around his shoulder, easing him into a sitting position and pull him into what could only be described as an attempt at an embrace – even though Kurt was pretty confident that Karofsky was incapable of them – and whisper "I'm so fucking sorry" into his hair.

Now that? It's not something he sees everyday. And Kurt's pretty convinced that it's not real life, either.

* * *

Thanks for reading as always! Leave me some feedback if you liked it :)


	6. Chapter 6

When the knock at his bedroom door comes, Kurt looks around from his bed, wondering firstly, who in the world knocks on bedroom doors, and secondly, who would be visiting him at 11 AM? Slowly getting to his feet, he presses a hand to his forehead for a moment, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Pulling the sweatshirt the Finn had lent him around him tighter, he decides that getting the door is seriously not worth it.

"Go away."

There's another knock, before a pause. "Uh, Hummel? Or, uh, Kurt?"

Kurt swears loudly under his breath, wondering who the fuck let Dave Karofsky into his house. Swinging his legs out from underneath him, he wobbled over to his door, pulling it open just a crack. And in fact, Dave was standing there, one hand shoved into his pocket. The other holding out a Robek's smoothie to him.

Kurt blanked, only staring at him.

"Uh, can I come in? Hudson's mom told me you were up here…"

"What are you doing here?" Kurt asks quietly, his eyes fixed on the smoothie, because he already knows its for him, and there's no possible way that Dave Karofsky could possibly know that they are his one and only weakness.

With a shrug, Dave hands him the cool Styrofoam cup and straw. "I only went to school today to talk to Figgins about what happened yesterday. After he took my statement, I was free to go. So I wanted to come and check on how you were doing… Is that okay?"

"Oh. Yeah. That's. That's fine." Kurt's mumbling, because he doesn't know what the hell he's doing, or even more, what the hell is going on. His fingernails dig into the Styrofoam cup. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Kurt closes his eyes for a second, holding his breath. "You really shouldn't be here. I – I appreciate everything. But you shouldn't – "

Karofsky's smiling, and it's a strange sight, because it's probably the first time Kurt's seen him smiling without it being brought on by inflicting some sort of torture or pain. "I probably shouldn't. But that's not going to stop me… So, can I come in?"

At some point later this evening, he's probably going to blame it on the fact that he's still delirious from the concussion, but he opens his bedroom door to Dave Karofsky and lets him in. In a blurry confusion, he watches as the other boy walks into his room, and Kurt still can't really understand or believe what's going on, but thinking about it makes his head hurt, so he is just thankful for the smoothie.

"How did you know I like these, anyway?" Kurt asks simply, taking a sip as he pulls his comforter back over him.

Dave shrugs, sitting down on the corner of his bed. "Asked around. Not a big deal."

Kurt nods wordlessly, swallowing despite the newfound dryness in his mouth. Things like this aren't supposed to happen. People aren't supposed to drive all over the county to buy Kurt Hummel a smoothie _just because he likes them_. And especially people who happen to be Dave Karofsky. It's like everything he's come to know has been turned on his head.

Karofsky's staring at his hands, and not saying anything.

With a sigh, Kurt puts the drink on his bedside table, pulling his blankets up closer to his chest. "Why are you really here?" he asks softly.

There's a bitter laugh, which throws Kurt a bit. Karofsky still won't look at him, and that's the thing that's really getting to him. "Apart from having my share of concussions and knowing how much they fucking suck…" There's a beat of silence, and even from where he's sitting, Kurt can see the tension rise in Karofsky's shoulders. He can see the smile drop from his face.

"After everything that happened yesterday, you deserve to know…" his voice cracks on the last part, which terrifies Kurt. This wasn't what he was expecting at all when he had asked him this. Honestly, he hadn't really known what was going to happen, but all he knew was that this wasn't what he had been counting on. "You deserve to know what happened when they found out…"

_Shit_.

"Karof – _Dave_…" Kurt whispered, his voice sounding so strangled that it almost sounded like someone else. "You don't have to do this unless you want to." He inwardly winces, because he's not even sure if he's ready to hear this.

Karofsky smiles sadly at him, and Kurt swears his heart breaks a little. "At this point, don't you think I owe it to you?"

Kurt splutters a bit, shaking his head. "I don't – I never meant – I'm sorry if you…" Karofsky's still just smiling, crossing his arms and Kurt realizes that there's nothing in the world that could possibly change his mind at this point.

* * *

_The weirdest thing happened yesterday, and when I say weird, I mean it every possible sense of the word. I wasn't feeling very well, and my total enemy shows up at my house, brings me a smoothie (which he skipped school to do) and proceed to share with me what has to be most horrible thing that's ever happened to him. I don't know if this was supposed to be some sort of apology for everything that's happened in the past between us – but there's a part of me that always wants to be a jerk to him. Only, this time I knew that by doing so I would be wrong. Am I making sense? I've said some pretty shitty things to him in the past, and he's apologized about seventeen times. Granted, I'm not going to say everything's a-ok now, but I'm thinking maybe I need to apologize for being a bit of an asshole to him._

_Wow, I'm totally hogging the spotlight. Again with the asshole act. I'm finally better, but I had to quit the team for the rest of the season (doctor's orders!) I think with all my new free time I'm going to catch up on some reading. And nothing goes better with a good book than some coffee! _

_How's everything with you? How's your team doing?_

_E_

Dave smiles as he reads Kurt's email. It's not like he had expected the two of them to be joined at the hip immediately, but it's nice to see that he's making some progress out of douchebag land.

Staring at the email for a just a second, he bites down on his lip, his fingers hovering above his car keys for just a second. On one hand, this is totally walking into creepy stalker territory. On the other – it's just going for a cup of coffee.

Right?

He is so not a creepy stalker.

Even though The Lima Bean is pretty crowded, he spots Kurt almost right away. He's sitting at one of the smaller tables by the window. In the light of the sun, Dave can still see the faint bruising on his temple and neck, but none of it seems to be keeping Kurt from burying himself in a weathered copy of _Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close_.

With a smile on his face, Dave buys a coffee and heads over to Kurt's table. When he pulls out the chair and sits down across from Kurt, he doesn't even look up from his book. Just sitting there for a moment, taking a sip from his coffee, Dave grins. "So, feeling much better, I see."

Kurt jumps in his seat, placing a hand over his chest and dropping his book onto the ground in a frantic mess. "Holy shit. What're you doing?" Dave just smirks, shaking his head in amusement as Kurt tries to regain his composure and miserably fails at it.

"I like coffee. You like coffee. And this is the only decent place in town…"

Kurt raises an eyebrow doubtfully. "Really?" Dave just shrugs innocently, and even Kurt can't argue with someone just trying to get coffee. He deflates, putting his book down onto the table. "Thanks for coming to see me yesterday. And for the smoothie, and for…" He can't bring himself to say the rest, the words getting caught in his throat.

Dave's not smiling anymore. "Don't mention it. I figure you must've been lonely, and with what I needed to do, it all kind of made sense…"

Kurt nods carefully, running a finger around the rim of his coffee cup, watching the person across from him. Who, for a long time, he thought he knew who it was. He thought he had him figured out. But apparently, and especially after what had happened last night – he didn't. He didn't even know who in the world Dave Karofsky was.

The uncomfortable silence is starting to get to him, and for a moment, he can only wonder why Karofsky would sit down with him if this was going to be the only byproduct of doing so.

"I'm glad you're okay. I don't think I ever said that…" Dave finally says rolling his shoulders awkwardly.

Kurt looks up from his cups, smiling weakly. "Thanks. I'm sorry that everything had to end like that between you and your – uh, friends?"

Dave smiles, chuckling. "Thanks. They were never really my friends, but I get what you're saying, and that means something." He's really aware of the fact that Kurt is desperately trying to hold up his end of the 'trying to not be so much of an asshole' part today. He's also aware that both of them are single, interested in guys, and engaging in conversation together at a local coffee shop on a Saturday afternoon by themselves.

If this isn't pretty fucking close to a date, Dave's not sure what is. Although, this has to be one of the most awkward first dates he's ever been on – which really isn't possible considering that all the other first dates he's been on, he wasn't really interested in the other person…

"So… did you ever meet your mystery man?" Dave tries, hoping to start some conversation before Kurt can drum up some sort of excuse and make his way out of the shop.

Kurt smirks, shaking his head and relaxing a bit at that moment. . "Nah. He never showed up after you left."

"He stood you up? Damn…"

Even though Kurt rolls his eyes, he laughs brightly. "He apologized later. He really is a nice guy."

It's Dave's turn to smile at that point, as he holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence. "Hey, I never said he wasn't. All I'm saying is that if he's such a great guy, how come you haven't met him yet?"

"Well, I don't know. It just hasn't come up…"

Behind the lip of his coffee cup, Dave smiles. This is actually coming together better than he'd hoped. It's refreshing, exhilarating, and even a little bit scary to think that Dave's here with Kurt. And they're coexisting with one another. And – he can't even believe that he's going to be able to say this – he's having a good time, and he's pretty sure that Kurt's enjoying himself as well. Okay, well, maybe that's being a bit over exaggerated on his part, but the fact that they haven't killed one another yet is a plus.

"So just ask him out. If he's single, and I heard about your breakup with Curly, so there's no time like the present," Dave replies, swallowing his coffee.

When Dave says 'Curly', Kurt starts to laugh again. Only, this time, he catches himself and quiets himself down, throwing one of his hands over his mouth. Almost like he's afraid that someone they know is going to see them together and see that Kurt is actually enjoying himself with Dave Karofsky. It kind of hurts Dave to see that Kurt feels that he needs to censor himself, but on the other hand, he hasn't left yet. So he'll take what he can get.

"Maybe I will," Kurt hisses back, practically sticking out his tongue.

"Yeah, sure. Okay."

"I _will!_"

"Okay, fine!"

The fact that both of them are laughing and smiling at this point goes unnoticed until they both catch one another's eye. Then, as if the light bulb goes off, the smiles drop from their faces, and they both busy themselves with whatever they can. Because it's becoming more and more evident that things like this shouldn't happen. And more than that, they're not supposed to let things like this happen. Dave and Kurt – they aren't supposed to laugh with one another, or joke, or even smile at one another. It's against some unspoken rule.

"Kurt…"

"Wait," Kurt starts, interrupting Dave's thought completely. The other boy sighs, long and drawn out. His lips are pressed into a thin line as he turns his gaze up to focus on Dave. "I need to say something to you. And I've been wanting to say it for a bit of time…" Kurt clears his throat, placing his hands into his lap and looking down at them for a bit. It's weird seeing him like this, and it's even weirder to be in a pretty intimate setting with him. The two of them – they're not supposed to get along. They're supposed to be at each other's throats, and no matter how badly Dave had tried to avoid it or wanted a different outcome, he'd forced himself to come and accept it.

"I'm sorry. For the way I've been acting lately. It's been extremely immature and completely out of hand considering that you're at least making an attempt to make this – whatever we have going on right now – work, and I'm just dragging my feet like a toddler, not wanting to let go of the fact that you hurt me. But on the same note, you've apologized multiple times, and even though I don't want to admit it, by some miraculous grace of whatever new deity people have been praising, you've changed. So, I'm really am sorry for how much of a jerk I've been. And thank you. For everything you did this past week. If you hadn't called him – if Azimio didn't know that you were in the locker room, I don't know…" At that point, his voice sort of gives out on him, and he grabs his coffee cup, making a deliberate move to take a sip from it. Dave's pretty sure that there's nothing left in it, but he doesn't really care about that because he's in shock of the words that just left Kurt Hummel's mouth.

When he tries to reply back, Kurt stops him by continuing. "I'm not done," he says simply, drawing in a deep breath, to which Dave just nods at hollowly, because at this point he can barely think, let alone move on his own accord. Kurt's sitting there, and for a moment, Dave's pretty sure the other boy is desperately trying to stop himself from crying. But then in the next moment, that look is gone, and he just looks scared. Scared, and alone.

"I understand. I finally understand…" Kurt whispers heavily, his shoulders practically up to his ears at this point.

"What?"

Kurt doesn't say anything for at least two minutes, which is when Dave wonders if he had just thought 'what?' or said it out loud. When he's about to repeat himself, Kurt sighs, finally looking up at him. His eyes are wide and dark, and to Dave it's extremely offsetting – because that's not what Kurt Hummel is. In any way.

"I understand why you did it. The bullying, the tormenting. Even the locker room. I understand finally. To live with that and hold it in for such a long time knowing that if you even spoke about it, the only people that you thought were your friends were going to turn on you – it'd turn anyone into a monster. And you were right…"

Dave fees like he can't breathe anymore, because this isn't supposed to be happening. There isn't supposed to be a ounce of forgiveness coming from Kurt. At least, not yet. And even if did get the forgiveness – the last thing he'd been expecting was understanding.

Kurt swallows thickly, his eyes refocusing on Dave. "When you told me last night about everything that you went through after – after everyone found out about your sexuality, I couldn't possibly imagine what that must've been like. It's horrible to even listen to it. The worst thing, though, is that you were alone. The whole time. And the people who were the worst were the ones you're supposed to be able to count on. They're the ones that are supposed to support you, and yet with you, they're the ones who made your life a living hell. You went through what I lived through. I barely made it through, but the reason why I did was because of my friends. You did it alone…"

As Dave clears his throat, just trying to add some noise in the silence that's settled down between them, he still can't comprehend what's happening. Because no one's ever acted like this towards him. No one's felt sorry for him, or thought about him, or even considered the way he feels for more than a second.

"I'm not saying I'm sorry for how I responded before, because I think I responded accurately at the time. But I am sorry for not trying to understand what you were going through. I'm not perfect myself. And I didn't even consider that here you were going through what could've been ten times worse what I did…"

"Stop," Dave eventually says, because at this point he can't listen to anymore of it. "Just… just stop…" he says, reaching over and grabbing onto Kurt's hand. Kurt freezes under the touch, peering up into Dave's eyes, a touch of bewilderment in his expression. Dave sighs, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Look, I appreciate the gesture. But this isn't your fault, Kurt. None of this is. Stop apologizing. I've taken responsibility for my actions and I'm glad that you have accepted my apology, I really am. But never in a million years was I looking for an apology from you. Because I'm not. And as glad as I am that you understand… that's all you need to do is understand. There's no need for you to say you're sorry, or blame yourself, or anything of the sort. It was me, and only me. I've come to terms with it and put the past behind me. Do the same…."

Kurt's watching him, a questioning expression on his face. Dave's worried that with his sudden outburst and by not letting Kurt just say what he wanted to, he could've just ruined any ground that they may have just acquired. But eventually Kurt nods. "Thank you," he says. The tension of an awkward silence settles on them heavily, before Kurt breaks it. "I guess it's just hard for me to picture what it must've been like. What you must've been going through internally, combined with what happened externally. I just feel horrible."

Dave smiles sadly. "What're you going to do? Like I said, it's in the past…"

It's at that moment that Kurt realizes that his hand is still under Dave's, which he pulls out wordlessly, placing it back in his lap. What scares him, though, is the fact that it took him a good five minutes to realize that he was on the verge of holding hands with Dave Karofsky. If it was anyone else in that position, he knows what he would've said to them.

That if it felt that right, it must've been right all along.

"Yeah… the past," he whispers, more to himself than to anyone else.

* * *

When Kurt gets the email from _AllMixedUp_ the next morning, it says that even though he'd love to try to meet in person today, he really can't because he's swamped with a project for school. Frowning and decided against smashing his face into the keyboard repeatedly, he picks up his phone, still in disbelief of what he's about to do. But he convinces himself that it's okay on the grounds that it's a Sunday and he's bored and he doesn't have anything else to do.

A hour and a half later, he's meeting Dave Karofsky at the small park in town under the premises that they're going to try to work on some more of their project together. But when Kurt drives up, he leaves his backpack in the car, because at this point, schoolwork is the farthest thing from his mind. It's actually kind of nice to not have to focus on work.

"So where's the mystery man?" Dave asks, smiling at Kurt as he sits down on the other side of the bench. Dave's leaned back against the wooden bench, one foot lazily propped up on his knee.

"He said he had homework…"

Dave laughs for a second before catching himself. "It could be the truth."

Kurt practically growls at him. "It is the truth! Of course it's the truth!"

Glancing at Kurt over the top of his sunglasses – which, oh hey, since when did Dave Karofsky actually wear sunglasses – Dave's grinning now. "What exactly did he say?"

Kurt adjusts himself on the bench. "That he had put off a project too long and he needed to do some work on it."

"Kurt, seriously, take it from someone who knows. That's the lamest excuse there is."

With a short laugh, Kurt finally smiles. "You're an asshole, you know that?"

Dave shrugs easily. "Proud of it."

The smile is still lingering on Kurt's face long after they've stopped talking. It's nice to feel this way, because with everything that's happened with Blaine, he feels that he hasn't smiled in such a long time. Or even just been generally happy.

"Should we start the work?"

Dave scrunches up his face in disgust. "No way am I working in weather like this."

"Isn't that why we're here?"

Getting to his feet, Dave brushes himself off, looking down at Kurt. "I mean, if you really want to work on the project, then we can. But I'm all up for enjoying this nice weather. So if you want to join me, please do. If not, that's fine to. It's up to you…" Kurt sits there for a moment, looking around the park. Dave just stands there watching him, waiting. In all honesty, he has no intent of working on his project.

"What did you have in mind?" Kurt asks with a smile. Dave smiles, reaching out a hand to pull Kurt to his feet.

"Ever learn how to actually throw a football?" Kurt just laughs at the thought, but follows behind him, because really, they're just partners for a project. There's no harm in what they're doing...

Really.


	7. Chapter 7

When Dave picks Kurt up the following Saturday morning in his pick up truck so they can head into the city to check out that photographer for the last section of their project, Kurt's standing under the overhang by his front door, his hands shoved into his raincoat pockets as he stares out onto the rainy driveway. Even from where he's sitting behind the wheel, Dave can already see the unhappy expression on Kurt's face as he climbs into the passenger's seat. As he sits back against the seat, closing the door behind him, Kurt's shoulders are still hunched together, brow furrowed angrily.

Dave can't help but realize that this meeting with the local photographer that they're going to see was set up by Kurt's ex-boyfriend, which is probably why this is so uncomfortable for him. It's almost like this is the last thing that Kurt had to hold onto him, and once this is over, it officially mean that Kurt's relationship with Curly is over. From what Dave's heard about him, he's not sure if that's something to be really upset about considering that he was cheating on Kurt with Evans, but still. Kurt probably isn't focusing so much on the bright side of heartbreak. Sighing softly, he backs the truck out of the Hummel's driveway silently, beginning to wonder how uncomfortable this trip is going to be.

"Let's just get this over with so I can put every piece of that backstabbing, frizzy headed home wrecker behind me…" Kurt mutters under his breath, leaning his head against the window.

Shooting him an encouraging smile only because at this moment he can't remember whether Kurt had told him or 'allmixedup' whether he and Blaine broke up and now would be a very awkward time to have the whole _I'm actually the guy you think you're in love with conversation_, Dave simply says, "Look on the bright side. This is the last part of project. After this part, we're done, and we can present it to the class this week…" The words feel weird leaving Dave's mouth, because it's the first time he's actually realized that after the project is over, there's really no reason for him and Kurt to spend time together any more.

Once they present their project to the class, all the progress that they've made in coming together ends. If Dave knows the two of them as well as he thinks he does – which he's pretty sure that he does – they'll just go back to the way things were. They'll ignore one another, living like they don't know or even acknowledge one another. The only interaction between them will only exist over the web, and even with that, Dave's not sure if he'll be able to work up the courage to tell Kurt the truth following all of this.

When he looks back over at Kurt, he can see that Kurt is actually looking a little more relaxed against the seat, with what looks like a barely contained smile on his face. Dave's waiting for Kurt to say what he's thinking – for him to start gushing about how he's so excited that he won't have to spend anymore time with Dave outside of this. And even thought Dave knows that if Kurt does say that it'll come pretty close to crushing his soul, he's kind of expecting it at this point.

Instead, though, Kurt laughs softly under his breath, shooting a look in Dave's direction. "Who would've thought? That back when we were assigned this project that we actually would've made it through all the way to the end – at least without any physically damaging harm to either of us?"

Dave's grinning again, softly shoving Kurt, who shoves him right back. They're still a good twenty minutes outside of Columbus, which means that there's still twenty minutes for the two of them to fill up with conversation. And for Dave, that means that there's still twenty minutes for him to bring up the huge elephant still sits in between the two of them unnoticed.

"So…" Dave starts, watching as Kurt lays his head back against the seat. "How's your internet boyfriend?"

"Not my boyfriend…" Kurt mutters as he rolls his eyes, but the teasing undertone to his voice quickly puts Dave at ease.

"You clearly want him to be, though," Dave continues, trying to keep this conversation as light as possible. He may have reached new heights with Kurt, but one wrong word, and he could lose all of it. It's best at this moment to tread lightly.

"We haven't even met yet!"

"Why not?"

Kurt purses his lips for a second, before throwing his hands up exasperatedly. "Because! I've been too busy hanging out with you all the time!"

At first, Dave wonders if he should just drop it, because right now he can practically feel the tension radiating off of Kurt. But he's so close to getting Kurt to figure it out – so fucking close. "Is that really so terrible?" he mutters.

Shooting him a death glare, Kurt's biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling. "Don't make me say it."

"Alright, alright. Jeez, calm down." Dave waves one of his hands in Kurt's face as they pull up to a stop light. "All I'm saying is that have you really had such a horrible time spending time with me instead of whimpering over how this guy won't return your emails?"

Snorting inelegantly at that, Kurt turns to him. "Wow, you definitely know how to sweet talk a guy, Mr. Karofsky… Besides, it's not that he won't return my emails – because he does. It's just that he's too busy all of a sudden…"

This time it's Dave's turn to grunt in disagreement. "Yeah right. What's this guy's name anyway?" As he pulls into the parking space of the loft that the photographer works at, he suddenly feels Kurt's eyes on him, watching him suspiciously. Feeling extremely exposed, he puts the car into park and relaxes back against the seat. "Calm down, it's not like I'm gonna try and steal him out from under you…"

After a moment, Kurt slowly releases the tension from his shoulders. "He goes by AllMixedUp," he says lowly, dropping his gaze from Dave to his hands that are neatly folded in his lap. "I don't know his real name…" A beat of awkward silence passes over the two of them before Kurt finally looks back up at him and says weakly, "It's weird. He kind of reminds me of…"

Dave's heart clenches, and all he can think at that moment is _finish the sentence, finish the sentence_.

But just like that, Kurt shakes it off, opening the car door. "Never mind that. We should probably get inside before he thinks that we're not coming, you know?" And just like that, all the easy conversation and lack of tension is gone. But this time around, it's different. The way Kurt refuses to meet his eyes, the way he jerks his hand away when it brushes Dave's when he holds the door for Kurt…

So close, and yet still not even close at all.

* * *

Hayden Stratton was… well. Nothing like Kurt had expected. Although, in reality, his studio was nothing like Kurt had expected either.

Because when Blaine had told Kurt that he knew a homosexual photographer, all Kurt could think about was this extremely over the top, Elton John-esque pantsuit wearing gay (or a pervy, scrangly old guy) that lives in a studio apartment wallpapered in pictures of naked dicks.

Hayden, though. He's a twenty two year old grad student in an oversized flannel and ripped jeans, with fluffy red hair, freckles, and a soft lisp that's accentuated even more by the lip ring he's currently wearing. Which, really, Kurt can honestly say through all the scenarios he had run through his head on the way over here, this was never one of them.

As they step out of the old-school elevator – complete with sliding bars in the front of it – Kurt's kind of in shock at the way the studio looks. Not because it's completely a mess, with rolls of film and canisters and empty Chinese food cartons littered across the floor – but because there's something about the room that leaves Kurt once again feeling like he's wrong.

It sends him back to a conversation that he had with _allmixedup_. That because of his image as the flaming gay kid, he's apparently only allowed to like certain things. Which is true on most accounts. But even as he's standing here in the studio apartment, it clicks that this is something that he wants. This loft – it has such a quality of home and being lived in and just a sense of nostalgia – and with all of its little flaws, it turns into something perfect.

Kurt realizes that he could never tell anyone this, because they'd think he was crazy for not wanting to live in a New York City Fifth Avenue Apartment with a live-in manicurist or his own personal fashion designer or whatever ridiculous things they can assume about him today.

"And you must be Kurt," Hayden says with a smile, his lip ring shining as his stick a hand out in Kurt's general direction. Kurt, slightly stunned for a moment, realizes that Dave has been talking to Hayden for the past few minutes while he's been lost in his head. When he looks over at Dave, he's watching Kurt with an expression of curiosity, a bit of faint concern shining through.

"Yes," Kurt eventually mumbles, sticking his hand out.

To watch Dave suddenly take over, asking questions and interviewing Hayden makes something in Kurt's stomach turn over. He's not sure what it is, but it leaves him feeling uneasy as he watches the two of them talking. And by 'the two of them', when he means is Dave, scribbling into the notebook he had brought. He's not sure how he's doing it, or how he's ever done it, but it seems that Dave has this innate 'Kurt Hummel' sense that must tingle when Kurt needs help. Because it seems that whenever Kurt does need help, Dave's always there to take over.

The thought leaves Kurt's mouth dry for a second. He steps back from the other two conversing, instead choosing to focus on the framed black and white photographs hanging on the whitewashed walls. The pictures aren't anything like Kurt had expected.

For one thing, as he does a quick scan of the room, he doesn't see any dicks plastered on the wall. So – that gets that out of the way. The guys are naked, that's for sure. But even more than that – they're actually really… well, artistic. And as much of a musical diva as Kurt is, he's never been one who could really appreciate the form of a body or whatever it is that artists talk about appreciating.

Each picture, though, whether it's just one guy or six guys – each of them looks completely candid. Like Hayden just managed to walk in on a simply intimate moment between these guys and just capture it with his camera.

"…I should really get going. You know, let the two of you browse in peace and quiet?" Hayden says with a smirk as he pulls a heavy black peacoat off a hook on the wall. "There's no need to lock up – nothing to steal, and besides. Can't get into the room without the security code." He turns toward the elevator, and then a heavy silence settles in the room, almost like he can hear Hayden contemplating. Kurt's almost positive that he's stepped inside of it when he hears "One more thing. And just tell me if I'm completely off base with this one… Would you two want to pose for a photo for me?"

Kurt's pretty sure that if he didn't have his hand on the back of the couch that was sitting against the wall he was currently looking at, he would've dropped onto the floor right then and there. Dave is staring at Hayden, his mouth slightly parted, before he splutters out a weak "What?"

Hayden shrugs sheepishly. "Well, I just figured you've seen the photos, and considering that the two of you probably aren't unfamiliar with poses like that, you'd make a great addition to my collection. Not to sound really creepy or anything, of course. If you don't want to, it's perfectly understandable."

"What do you mean by 'not unfamiliar with poses like that'?" Kurt squeaks out, still keeping a vice grip onto the couch as a lifeline.

"You two are dating, right? Because as soon as you walked in, it just seemed so…" With the uncomfortable silence that was still hanging in the room, Hayden turns a dark shade of pink, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. Dave shoots a look at Kurt, who immediately thinks that now would be an appropriate time for the couch to grow teeth and swallow him whole. "Well, this is awkward. I think I'm just going to leave now. Enjoy the stay, and good luck with the project!"

Kurt's still staring at the place where Hayden was standing when he hears a engine rev outside the window. When he turns back to the pictures on the walls, he allows himself to get lost in the beauty of them once again, and forget about the disaster that had just unfolded in front of him moments before.

* * *

When Kurt finally notices the lengthening shadows across the floor of the apartment, Dave is behind him, his fingers wrapped loosely around the crook of Kurt's elbow as he gently motions for them to head to the elevator. "It's getting late, Kurt," he says softly. It takes a moment for Kurt to pull his eyes away from the wall. Not because he's suddenly gone from Mr. Unexperienced Prude into the pervert of the century. But because the artwork on the wall – it's so different from anything that he's seen. Obviously it's sexy, but it's not explicit. It's sensual – tasteful.

It makes him feel different, and he kind of hates that, especially after the huge debate after he'd had with Blaine about not needing or wanting to feel sexual. He hates it, because he hates being wrong and right now at this moment all he wants to do is sink into the pictures and let the bodies and the shadows and the highlights wrap around him.

"Right," Kurt whispers, licking his lips in an attempt to try to alleviate the dryness still lingering in his throat. "Right."

Dave's still watching him carefully as he stows away the notebook into the backpack he'd brought in with him. Kurt would say something to him – thank him for being so prepared, or even make some knock about it – but it's like his brain isn't working correctly right now. It's like he isn't even Kurt right now.

Kurt's leaning against the wall by the elevator, waiting as Dave closes the windows and picks up anything that they had moved. Hayden had said not to lock up, but the least they could do was not leave the place a complete shit hole. As he watches everything happen around him, Kurt feels like he's slowly becoming detached from his body. Like this isn't even him in the room, but he's just watching it from up above.

"So you seemed to really enjoy it…" Dave mumbles, hitting the button for the elevator.

Kurt waits for the groan of the elevator before shrugging and answering quietly "Yeah, I guess so. I mean. Yeah, it was pretty damn good." He realizes that this is the first time that they're carrying on a conversation since Hayden asked the two of them to pose for one of his homosexual (nude) photo shoots together. And Kurt also realizes that this should be freaking him out much more than it actually is. But right now, the lack of how much it's bothering him is what's freaking him out…

Dave smiles, and Kurt knows all too well that he's holding back by the way the corners seem to fold down on themselves. He's not sure what's scarier at this point – that Dave's clearly more freaked out by all of this than he is, or that Kurt knows Dave Karofsky smile like the back of his hand now. Dave pulls the door open and the two of them climb in in silence.

He's just hit the button when Dave pipes up "So does this mean you've never looked at porn?" Kurt can only contain his laughter for about three seconds, which is when he full out explodes in hysterics.

That is, until the elevator screeches to a stop somewhere between the second and third floors.

* * *

"So, how long have we been here?" Dave asks, pocketing his phone after calling his mother to tell her in fact that he would not be home for dinner.

Kurt grimaces, standing on the complete opposite side of the elevator still holding the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he talks to what Dave can only presume to be his father, for Kurt then rolls his eyes and whispers harshly "Can I _please _talk to Finn instead?"

Dave sinks onto the floor of the elevator, as he realizes that it could be tomorrow morning by the time the two of them are out of here. And if he's going to have to spend almost twelve hours in an elevator, he might as well do it comfortably.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asks, shoving his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

"What does it look like?" Dave points out. "You don't know how long we're going to be in here, so I'm going to at least try to relax in doing so…"

Kurt rolls his eyes at that, but he eventually sinks to the floor beside Dave. Dave can't help but see the crease in the knee of Kurt's leather pants, which is almost ridiculous considering that they were already skin tight on him. Only Kurt Hummel would be able to find skinny leather pants that were too big for him.

As Kurt props his chin on his knee, he shoots a look at Dave, still looking extremely unconvinced at Dave's ease in this situation. Dave just shrugs, shoulders rising and falling easily.

"Is your father going to kill me once we step outside of this elevator?"

Kurt chuckles at that, dropping his head so that Dave can't see his expression. "Hey, I can't speak for him. He still hasn't gotten his through his head that you're not out to murder me, but hopefully while we're stuck in here, Finn can do his best to calm him down. So I'd say that you owe him, you know, everything you own if he manages to do so." The fact that Kurt's voice isn't soft or condescending, or even anything out of the ordinary makes the initial twinge inside of Dave quickly loosen up.

"Nahhh, I'd say that he owes me… I mean, who else would provide his stepbrother with such wonderful company whilst trapped inside an elevator? Anyone else, and who knows what you would have to resort to? No, your dear brother now owes me for protecting you along with the rest of society…"

Dave's laughing again and he's not sure how it happened, but Kurt's smiling again. He hasn't smiled since they were in the car, early in the ride over here, which now feels like years ago. Dave tries not to get wrapped up in it, because he knows that one look is all it would take for him to fall hard, but right now it's hard not to notice it. Because when Kurt smiles, it's bright and he smiles with every part of his body, and Dave can't help it.

He can't help it.

* * *

Kurt's already starting to lose track of time, which he realizes is a bad sign considering that he knows that they've been in here for at least four hours already. All that he is certain of is that both of their phones are dying, the makeshift pillow of his raincoat is probably more uncomfortable than the wood under their heads, and he's already prayed to every nonreligious deity that Hayden will miraculously come find them within the next minute.

The only thing that's keeping him from repeatedly banging his head against the wall until he finds the exit is Dave keeping him occupied with a game of twenty questions. It's mostly been light stuff – dream concert set, three people you'd want to have dinner with, celebrity fuck…

Until Dave says softly "Why did you and your boyfriend break up? "

Kurt frowns, wondering if it would be okay for him to just scoot away from Dave at this moment, taking his rain jacket with him and curling up in the corner of the elevator until it started to move. But considering that they're lying in the middle of the elevator on their backs, the rain jacket shared between them as they lay opposite ways, Kurt realizes that there's really no harm in telling him.

"We didn't break up. I dumped him," Kurt says rolling onto his side to face Dave. It's awkward, and yet it's strangely intimate at the same time if at all possible. "I found out a few weeks ago that he's been cheating on me for a while, and… unsurprisingly I'm not okay with that. So I ended it…"

Dave makes an unintelligible noise, but to Kurt it almost sounds like pity. Or anger. At this point, though, they're kind of interchangeable. Especially when he's talking about Blaine. "It's alright, I guess. I mean, I'm not thrilled about it considering that I thought he was God's gift to humanity and he just thought he could use me for whatever he needed – be it the bird, the Warblers, or when he wanted to date me. But it's nice to be able to realize that I don't need him to carry on a relationship with someone, like I thought I did originally. So it sucks, but I'm getting over it. Slowly…"

"I just don't get it," Dave whispers eventually, slightly rolling onto his side so he can face Kurt. Kurt stops, only arching an eyebrow. Dave must interpret that as 'what?', because he goes on to say, just loud enough to be heard over the loud banging noise below them that's been going on every hour or so.

"How someone could cheat on you."

He's not sure when he started, but it isn't until Dave's brushing his thumb across Kurt's cheek that he realizes that he's crying. But the strange thing is is that he isn't even the least bit sad. This is actually probably the cathartic moment he's been waiting for all along, because when he looks up and meets Dave's eyes, something clicks inside of him. It's like all that time he's spent in the elevator as an out-of-body experience is over, and he's finally back, seeing everything clearer than ever before.

Dave must notice that something is up, because as he locks eyes with Kurt, the thumbs that's been sweeping across the planes of Kurt's cheekbones slows down, eventually lifting off completely. Which leaves the only contact between the two to be between their eyes. Or, at least, for only a second or two.

Kurt's not exactly sure what causes it – if it's the fact that they've been laying in such a confined space now for hours, or because they're close to delirium from lack of _everything_, or just because – but when Dave lifts his hand again, dragging his thumb over Kurt's lower lip slowly and carefully, it's like nothing he's ever felt before.

And maybe that's what he'll blame his next action on, along with every other possible thing that could've affected his judgment at the moment. But when Kurt takes Dave Karofsky's face in his hands, his own thumbs pressed lightly against the skin on Dave's cheeks, pressing his lips onto the other boy's, there's nothing else crossing his mind.

For the few (ahem, _very_ few) blissful uninterrupted moments that they stay like that - Dave leaning forward to press his forehead against Kurt's, Kurt being unable to catch his breath, Dave whispering his name just quiet enough for him to hear – Kurt can honestly say to himself that he doesn't want this to end.

He feels like he's falling and there's no time or chance for him to even think about what's happening or what he's doing or who this is. There's just _here_ and _now._

"See, this was what I was totally talking about for one of my pictures… I knew you two had it in you."

Kurt then realizes that that sensation of falling was actually the elevator moving, and that the two of them are back on the ground. And Hayden is standing over them, grinning as he takes it all in.

And just like that, everything seems to light up in Kurt's mind. This is Dave Karofsky he's kissing. With a gasp, he jerks away, and instantly he knows that Dave realizes what's going on. His own body is telling him that this is good and that he wants this. That he should have this. But his head – his head knows the truth. That this shouldn't feel good, and that he can't let it feel good. He can't let himself be tricked into something like this.

Scrambling to his feet, he pushes past Hayden and heads to the door. Dave's calling his name, trying to get to his feet to chase after him, but Kurt doesn't even look back as he runs out into the parking lot and runs past Dave's truck. All he can think is that if the elevator hadn't moved – if Hayden hadn't literally walked in on them – Kurt wouldn't have stopped.

Honestly, he doesn't think he could've if he tried.

* * *

_One more chapter! (and maybe an epilogue!) We're almost there - hang in for the home stretch :D_


	8. Chapter 8

_I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you into meeting me or anything… but, well, I do really want to meet you. I know I can talk to you over the web, and I already know that you're an awesome person. I just really want to see if we can click as well in person as we do online. I've become so confused, lately, about how I feel for someone else, and that's starting to scare me. But I know how I feel for you and I just need to know that this connection is real._

_I think I might be in love with you._

_E_

With a tired hand, Dave rubs his face. This isn't what was supposed to happen at all. Through this all, Kurt was just supposed to realize that Dave and _allmixedup _were one and the same person. That was the only reason that Dave had decided to keep this charade up for so long. But in reality, Kurt is falling for him – Dave Karofsky, not _allmixedup. _Hell, Kurt may have already fallen for him. If the events that happen last Saturday in the elevator Hayden's building, including the aftermath of Kurt sprinting out into the parking lot without his coat, without Dave, without even looking back or letting Dave drive him home.

Dave may not be the best person at reading people's emotions, but he can notice an freak out when he sees one, and what Kurt had was a definite freak out.

Opening up a new email, Dave sighs. It's not fair to keep lying to Kurt's face like this. He's hasn't even spoken to Kurt since that night, which made presenting their project to the class a pretty difficult task considering that when they stood up in front of the class Kurt wouldn't even look at him without turning bright pink and becoming flustered as he began to flip through his note cards with a suddenly squeaking voice. They had managed to get a B+ on the project, which was pretty damn good by Dave's standards, and even better considering that it was one of the higher grades in the class.

_I really want to meet you too, Extraordinary. My schedule's been pretty hectic lately, but it's dying down ever since I've finished up a huge project that was taking up a lot of my time. I'm free tomorrow, and I'd love to see you. There's a small park in Lima, right on the edge of town. I will be waiting by the willow tree by the gate at 2:30 tomorrow afternoon. Meet me there? Let's not delay this anymore. I hope it won't be disappointing for you._

Dave clicks 'send' and closes his computer. He can't keep this lie up anymore. Kurt deserves to know the truth – once and for all. He pauses for a second, before picking up his cell phone and dialing Kurt's cell phone number.

* * *

"I can't stay all afternoon," Kurt says, taking a sip of his coffee. The tension is still there, he can feel it already building between them, but luckily after the conversation that Dave tried to have with him last night it's not as bad as it's bad for the past week. When Dave had called him, asking him if he wanted to meet at the Lima Bean this morning for what could be considered a now annual coffee meeting between the two of them. This one was supposed to be in celebration of a job well done on their art history project, but considering that they had now had coffee together three times in a little over a month, Kurt could say that it was becoming a habit.

"Really?" Dave quirks, raising an eyebrow and licking the whipped cream off of his straw. "Big date with the e-boyfriend?"

Kurt smirks, and this time around, it feels a bit easier than it did originally this morning when Dave had picked him up. If Dave can relax like this, then so can Kurt. He can put everything that happened in that elevator behind him and forget about it, because clearly Dave has. And even though Kurt may not want to – or admit that he doesn't want to - Dave does. So, yeah, Kurt can be cool.

Besides, he's finally going to meet _allmixedup. _Everything's going to be perfect. "As a matter of fact, I did…" Kurt muses, running a finger all along the rim of his plastic lid. "And he was the one who suggested it this time, so there."

"Liar."

"_Jealous."_

The word hangs in the air for a moment, and Kurt wonders if he crossed a line at that point. But when a smile breaks out on Dave's face, all encompassing before he cracks up in laughter before he takes another sip of his iced mocha. Kurt smiles, suddenly feeling more at ease than he has in the past week. It almost feels like everything's back to normal.

Almost.

The few hours that they have to spend pass by quickly between them, and it's only when Kurt realizes that his coffee cup is empty that he checks his phone for the time, which reminds him that he needs to get home to get his car so he can get to the park on time to meet _allmixedup_. When he mentions this to Dave, he nods slightly, a subdued smile on his face as he drops his empty cup into the garbage as he grabs his keys and heads for the truck.

The ride back to Kurt's house is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Every so often, Kurt will find himself looking up from the road in front of them and focusing instead on Dave, who's focusing on the road, of course. Kurt can't help it, but he just seems to be stuck on Dave's profile.

When they pull up to a stoplight, Dave finally asks "Nervous about meeting your guy?"

Kurt shrugs weakly, bringing his gaze back into his lap, where it seems to fit comfortably these days. "Kind of," he admits. It's the truth, because he is nervous about meeting _allmixedup_. But as he sits there in the silence a little bit longer, he realizes that this isn't what he's really nervous about. He's nervous that _allmixedup _isn't going to be as wonderful as he hoped. As wonderful as…

His eyes flicker back to Dave, who's still watching him carefully.

All this time he's been worried about falling in love too quickly with someone he's never seen face to face, but what he probably should've been worried about was falling in love with Dave Karofsky. As this point, though, it might be too late to be worrying about it happening.

"Don't worry about it," Dave encourages, gripping Kurt's shoulder gently with his hand. "He can't be any worse than Curly Boy. And if he is, you already know how to handle it. Just, you know, kick him in the balls or something. I figure you'd be able to handle that well…"

"Yeah, I think I would," Kurt replies weakly.

"You'll be fine," Dave says gently, and again the car falls silent for another few minutes. Kurt is staring out the window the entire time, wondering how in the world he managed to let it all get this far when Dave asks quietly "Do you think he'll be boyfriend material?"

"I don't know. I don't know how he feels about me."

"What about you?"

Kurt pauses, before admitting, "I wouldn't say no to it."

Dave's quiet at that point, and this time around, the silence is unnerving to Kurt. He wishes now more than any other time that Dave would say something encouraging about meeting his mystery man or something. Hell, he's even wishing for the old Karofsky, who would simply verbally or physically abuse him. It's pretty self-deprecating, but it's something that Kurt knows better than this Karofsky. The longer the two of them stay in silence, the longer Kurt is starting to feel like there's something wrong with what's he's about to do, and he _can't_ feel that way.

They're still silent when they pull into Kurt's driveway and when Dave' turns the ignition of the truck off. Even though they're back at his house, Kurt doesn't immediately get out of the car, because when he looks over at Dave, the other boy is staring down at the steering wheel intently, almost like he can't and won't bear to pick his head up to look at Kurt and face him.

"This guy," Dave starts. "He has you thinking that you're already in love with him. That there's no one else in the world that's better made for you…"

"Stop."

"And you're already eating it all up, not even bothering to look at the whole picture of what this really is, or give other people…"

"Shut up."

"He's made up completely in your head!"

"I said_ shut up!_" Kurt exclaims, slamming one of his fists down onto the dashboard of Dave's truck. He feels dizzy and sick all of a sudden, like he can't focus on anything. Because he already knows what Dave was trying to get at, and he can't let that get brought up now. Not now, when he's so close to what's right within his grasp.

Dave eventually drops his head, murmuring out an "I'm sorry." The silence settles over the two of them, heavy and awkward until Kurt finally relaxes against the seat, pulling his fist back into his lap. When he does so, he punches Dave lightly in the shoulder, a soft smile curling on his lips. It's so damn hard at this point to try to stay mad at him when Dave's only trying to help.

"Thanks for everything today," Kurt offers quietly.

"Don't mention it," Dave replies earnestly.

Kurt starts to climb out of the truck, one leg hanging out of the truck when Dave grabs onto his arm, hand sliding down until it's loosely curled around the crook of his elbow. He pauses it there for a moment, before dropping it and entwining it with Kurt's hand. Kurt's breath hitches when Dave's thumb drags itself lightly over Kurt's knuckles. "Last Saturday…" Dave starts, and it takes all of Kurt's willpower to not choke on his own breath as he hears the complete pain running through Dave's voice.

"I know," Kurt mutters softly, because he does. He knows what Dave is going to ask, he knows what his answer would've been, he knows everything that his conversation is asking for by now. By now, Dave is stroking Kurt's hand, one finger at a time. It's incredibly intimate, causing Kurt's breath to catch in his throat, and he doesn't know what else to say to it.

"If it wasn't me-"

With a bitter laugh, Kurt interrupts him. "None of that matters, Dave. You are Dave Karofsky, and I'm Kurt Hummel. The two don't go together. And they never will."

"It always matters. That's the only thing that matters," Dave points out, and it hits Kurt hard that he might be right.

"Dave, I can't. I can't do this right now…" Kurt breathes desperately. But at the same time, he can't bring himself to pull his hand out of Dave's grasp. "I need to get going," he tries again.

Nodding, Dave eventually lets go of Kurt. "Wear that red and black plaid shirt you wore during the _Born This Way _performance. It looks good on you…"

Weakly smiling, Kurt steps out of the car and turns back to Dave. "I will. Thanks again."

"See you later, Kurt…" Dave says, putting his car into gear and backing out of the Hummels driveway. The car has already driven down the street and turned the corner, towards the direction of Karofsky's house when Kurt finally manages to turn away from the street and head inside.

* * *

When Kurt finally pulls up to the park that _allmixedup_ is supposed to meet him at, he's wearing his red and black flannel shirt and a pair of jeans that surprisingly he doesn't have to jump around to get into. As he puts the car into park and climbs out of it, his hands are trembling furiously. As he starts the trek out towards the old willow tree that he used to climb on with Tina and Puck when they were young, he shoves them into his pocket in an attempt to quell their shaking.

He's only a few steps from the willow, which means he's probably only a minute or two away from meeting the guy he's practically sold his heart to over the internet. And yet, right now all he can see in his head is Dave and how shattered he seemed on the car ride back to Kurt's. All this time, as Kurt is walking over to the tree, he's half-expecting Dave to be there waiting.

But he's not. Of course he's not.

Taking a deep breath, he runs a hand through his hair, at which point he realizes that his hands are still shaking uncontrollably. He can't show up and be nervous, because if he's nervous, he won't even be in control of his mouth and he'll embarrass himself within a matter of three minutes.

_Dave wouldn't care…_

He swears to himself, because the last thing that needs to be on his mind right now is Dave. He's so close to everything that he's been wanting over the past months, and he's going to ruin it for himself.

The tree's right there, and under it's a bench. He can see the figure sitting on it, one leg crossed over the other and head bowed carefully. He's dressed in a zip up sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, and that's the sweatshirt from their first-

It can only be…

"Dave?"

Dave looks up, his lips twerking in a half-smile. "Hey Kurt." By now, Kurt's stopped walking completely, but like always, Dave's taken over, standing up and walking to meet him in graceful strides.

"You…you're…?" Kurt splutters, only because his brain can't form coherent thoughts at this moment. Dave replies with a nod, and just like that it all clicks and Kurt can't believe he didn't see it sooner than right now. Everything he told Dave in person versus everything he told him over the web, the feelings he had for Dave Karofsky and the feelings he had for _allmixedup_…

"So you didn't stand me up at the coffee shop originally?"

"I did not."

Taking a step forward, this is still a bit too much for Kurt to comprehend. "Why haven't you said anything?" He's surprised at how relaxed his voice is. The smile on Dave's face falters for a second, before he opens his mouth. Kurt sighs, pinching down on the bridge of his nose. "Never mind, I understand why you never said anything. I made that pretty clear this afternoon why…"

"I never wanted to lie to you, Kurt. I just-" Dave takes another step closer to Kurt, to the point where they're only inches apart.

"Then why did you?"

Dave frowns, turning his head away for a second. "Because I was scared," he admits, and it's probably in the most honest voice that Kurt's heard from him. "I was afraid that I would lose you." Stopping for a moment, Dave reaches for Kurt's hand, encircling it in his own. Even through his own shaking hands, Kurt can feel Dave's trembling against his own. "I couldn't lose you, because I think I might be in love with you."

"Oh my god," Kurt blurts out, a shuddery laugh breaking his voice. This can't be happening, it can't be. Because this would mean that Kurt's actually going to get everything that he wanted – that he won't have to hurt anybody or lose anybody in the process. Or more importantly, have to hurt himself. It can't be happening, because things like this don't happen to Kurt. Kurt never gets what he wants.

"Please say something," Dave eventually mutters.

"Fuck you, Dave…" Kurt whispers, because he can't even bring himself to speak louder than it. Immediately, he feels Dave tense against him. "Fuck you for making me fall in love you, Dave Karofsky."

With a stiff laugh, Dave admits, "I'm not sure if I can really apologize for that…"

"Fuck you," Kurt repeats, starting to laugh as he squeezes Dave's hand in his own. "I'm in love with you."

Dave's smiling, lifting his hand to run his thumb along Kurt's jawbone. Kurt falls into the touch, and he's already feeling that electricity tingling in between them. When Dave lets his hand fall against Kurt's neck, letting it rest there for a moment, Kurt wonders if they're both thinking the same thing.

They must've been, because after a beat of silence, their lips are crashing against one another in the painfully desperate way that's such a contradiction to the kiss that they shared last Saturday night in the elevator. This one is filled with everything that has been unsaid between them since…well…

Since the locker room almost a year ago. Because if this kiss can be compared to anything, it's that. It's so filled with longing and passion and wanting that it leaves Kurt desperate for more. This time around, though, there's nothing to stop the kiss. Dave is cradling Kurt's face in his hands, holding him close and everything is so perfect that Kurt can't believe that this is happening to him.

After what feels like an eternity of kissing under the willow tree, Kurt breaks apart from the kiss, pressing his forehead against Dave's. "I wanted it to be you," he admits, both to himself and Dave. Through it all, he can feel Dave smile against him, pressed softly on his skin. "All this time, I was hoping that it might've been you. Even with how much I was trying to hate you, and with everything that happened between us, ever since you showed up at the coffee shop that afternoon, something changed. You changed, and it made me want you instead of… well, instead of _you._ And I couldn't even admit that to your face. I mean, how could I?"

"I don't care… I don't care about any of that, Kurt. I care about you." Before Kurt can say anything else, Dave's kissing him again. And as Kurt pulls him into a tight embrace, Kurt couldn't see this with any other outcome.

* * *

**EPiLOGUE**

When Dave walks up to Kurt's locker, where Kurt's currently talking to Finn, he can't help but feel, well, happy. And that's saying a lot – for him, at least. Considering everything that he's been through in the last year, and considering most of all that he's Dave Karofsky – happy endings have never really been in his future. But when he looks down the hallway and sees Kurt standing there and realizes that this is his reality now - it's not just a figment of his imagination – Dave thinks that maybe he can get used to endings like this. At least, as long as they have Kurt in them.

When he walks up to the locker, he puts his hand gently on Kurt's shoulder, who immediately spins around from his conversation with Finn. "Oh, hi!" he exclaims, leaning over to quickly give Dave a peck on the lips. "I was wondering where you were!"

"Just taking care of some stuff," Dave says, nodding a greeting to Finn, who's looking at both of them with a smirk on his face. "Hey, Finn," Dave tries, a tone of caution at the end of his voice.

"Hey Dave. I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got to go meet up with Rachel to talk about some of the stuff for Nationals. I'll see you two later, okay?" Finn says as he slams his locker shut, clapping a hand onto one of Kurt's forearms.

"Finn," Dave calls out as an afterthought, catching the other boy just as he's about to turn away and walk down the hall. When Finn stops, there's a momentary look on confusion on his face as he waits for Dave to finish his sentence. Dave bites down on his lip cautiously, before saying to Finn, "Say hi to Rachel for me, would you?"

There's a question imprinted on Finn's features, before he breaks out in a smile, nodding and walking down the hall.

"What in the world was that?" Kurt says, raising an eyebrow elegantly as he continues shoving the last of his books into his locker. "Since when did the sun relocate to shining out of your ass?"

Dave pushes him playfully, only to then wrap the arm around Kurt's waist. "Well, I figure if I can get your brother on my side, then getting Hudson's mom can't be that hard. And after that, well, your father won't stand a chance when it's three on one…"

Kurt's smiling at him by now, closing his locker as he completely turns to face him. "Really?"

Dave groans mock dramatically, though he's still grinning. "So I want your stepbrother and his girlfriend to like me, is that such a horrible thing?" By now, both of his arms are around Kurt's waist, and Kurt's stretching his long arms to wrap themselves in an embrace around Dave's neck.

Never once did Dave picture this happening. He may have thought that he wanted to be with Kurt, but not like this. Where they were just – _together_. And able to be together with no one trying to stop them. When they were able to just be. Because as they're locked in this embrace in the middle of the main hallway, which is currently frantic with half of the entire school, no one has even bothered to say anything to them.

Which is how it should be.

"I think it's adorable, and only a little bit nauseating," Kurt admits before catching Dave's lips in his own again.

"Speaking of nauseatingly adorable," Dave starts, untangling himself from Kurt's grip, he reaches into his back pocket. "_This_ is what I was taking care of earlier." He places the ticket into Kurt's open palm, waiting for the appropriate reaction.

Kurt's laughing before he even realizes what is now sitting in his hand. Slowly, he turns the ticket over in his hand a few times, almost like he's making sure that it's a real ticket that's made for the real prom that's was really bought by Dave. When he looks back up at Dave, the smile has slipped from his lips. "Are you serious?" he mumbles.

"Well, it only makes sense for two of McKinley most attractive to make an appearance at what could be one of the most sinfully boring events of our high school career. It's up to us to make sure that it's not…"

As Kurt looks back down at the ticket again carefully, Dave finally knows why this is really it; why this is going to work out for the both of them. Because when one of them falls, the other rises to the occasion to make sure it all works out. Because they are - and months ago, if anyone had ever said this to him he'd have thrown him into a dumpster – actually really compatible.

And because they just work. It might've taken them months to get here, but at least they did.

Kurt slips the ticket into his bag before sliding his hand into Dave's. As he starts to pull Dave through the hallway, he leans over and whispers into his ear "You're going to look really hot in a tux, you know that?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have bought the tickets if I didn't. I mean, you're going to need to have someone that looks good to bring with you. Arm candy, you know?"

Breaking out in a smile, Kurt links his arm through Dave's. "My boyfriend. Always thinking about the needs of others."

Starting to laugh, Dave pulls Kurt into one of the alcoves of the hallway, feeling strangely light at the weirdness of how _normal_ this is feeling. "I had a thought. Or, an idea of some sort."

"Hmm?" Kurt prompts playfully.

"Well, every other normal couple takes pictures before prom. They stand outside in their yard and pose for their parents and pose with their date and pose with their dog and pose with everything they've ever owned… "

"Oh yeah? Then what do you propose?"

"Clearly, we're not ordinary in any way. I mean, you're extraordinarily unordinary," Dave pointed out, to which Kurt flushed a light shade of pink, a smile creeping up on his face. "And if I'm going to prom, I'm making it an event that'll go down in history. So. I think we should get our prom pictures taken by Hayden."

Kurt pauses, the smile still on his face before he bursts out laughing. Dave smiles back, because this pretty much was the reaction he was expecting. But when Kurt buries his face in the crook of Dave's neck in an attempt to quell his laughter, it just reminds him that this isn't some kind of a dream.

This is real.

"You're such a pervert," Kurt says, shaking his head.

Dave shrugs easily. "Yeah, but notice that you haven't said no to it yet. And besides, you wouldn't love me any other way."

"That is definitely true. To the last part, I mean. Not the pictures…" Kurt tries, waving his hand before he grabs onto Dave's again and starts to head out towards the parking lot.

The best part about this whole thing? Dave doesn't even have to think twice about the honesty of Kurt's answer.

He just _knows._

* * *

**THE END! :D :D :D I'm so excited, I love this story sosososo much. And even more than that, I have LOVED all the wonderful feedback I have received from everyone over the past two months. It is definitely the motivation that has kept me going and kept me writing more. I cannot thank you guys enough for your AMAZING words of inspiration and encouragement that have just kept me wanting to write more and more. Never in a piece I've written has the feedback been so great, so thankyouthankyouthankyou :D**

**Keep your eyes peeled for some more Dave&Kurt works from me ;) I've got one in its early works as we speak...**

**-Meg**


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